He Likes You
by arhk
Summary: Maya thinks that Edgeworth likes Phoenix and decides to do something about it. Phoenix/Edgeworth, friendship and romance, lots of awkward funtimes.
1. Chapter 1

Note: I don't own the characters, reviews appreciated, etc. This story takes place after Trials and Tribulations but doesn't account for Apollo Justice or Investigations.**  
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><p>"Hey, Nick!"<p>

The defense attorney being addressed was slouched over his desk. At the moment, an assortment of legal documents covered all of the surface space before him, strewn about in such a manner that indicated they hadn't been read carefully or in their entirety. Phoenix looked up from the latest paper, allowing it to droop casually over his hands as he peered over at his assistant.

"What, Maya?" he asked with only the slightest bit of impatience in his tone. While he wasn't entirely uninterested in hearing what the spirit medium had to share, he had a mountain of work to complete that more immediately required his attention. Going into court just _once_ without feeling utterly lost or confused would be such a _nice _change. He let the paper in his hands flop lazily down to the desk and blinked over at her with measured coolness, preparing himself for whatever inane comment she might make.

"I think Mr. Edgeworth likes you."

Well, he'd been ready for every inane comment except that one. Shocked into silence that lasted longer than he would have liked, Phoenix leaned forward, staring at Maya in confusion. While misinterpreting her words was a very real possibility, (after all, this wouldn't be the first time he'd been accused of allowing his mind to go off on fantastical tangents), what Maya was suggesting seemed… hard to misunderstand. Swallowing with difficulty, Phoenix placed the file he'd been studying into the nearest folder and then flattened that against the desk, attempting to compose himself.

"You mean as friends, right? Because yeah, me and Edgeworth consider each other rivals and partners, and we go back a long whi–,"

"No, Nick," she said, smirking deviously and waving a hand as if to dismiss the idea. The expression upon her face indicated that she was having far too much fun toying with him.

"I mean, I think he _likes you_. Like as a crush." The spirit medium grinned at him after saying as much, reclining back in the rolling chair that was intended for legal clients. She pushed away from his desk as she smiled, seeming to enjoy the defense attorney's horror.

"W-what? Don't be ridiculous. You know Edgeworth. He's not the type to form crushes on people, let alone on people like _me_," he said, trying to calmly but desperately put this into perspective. For the past few years, the media had been obsessed with "Wright versus Edgeworth", and while he was content to slip into his assigned role as the famous prosecutor's rival., anything _beyond _that role was weird and deeply unsettling.

His eyes bored into those of his assistant, taking on a look of steely certainty until the girl burst into a lighthearted fit of laughter. This only made Phoenix more frustrated. What he needed at this point was reassurance that Edgeworth was NOT interested in him and that this was the girl's idea of a joke. Laughter seemed to indicate that his disagreement was in some way silly or unreasonable.

"Oh, come on, Nick! Is it really that bad to think that he might have a crush on you? I mean, look at how he behaves around you…" she said, getting up from her seat in the client's chair and gliding across the room until she could study the potted plant located in the corner. Phoenix's gaze followed her movements, his expression remaining sour and steadfast.

"Most obvious would be the way he acts during and after cases. He's always doing stuff like clutching his arm and avoiding your eyes awkwardly. How often does anyone ELSE witness the great Miles Edgeworth looking coy? I've never seen him act interested in anyone beyond what they mean to him in court, let alone respect them as individuals, and he seems kinda obsessed with you... but like, in a really shy way! It's so cute to see him all flustered when he's interacting with you! And not to mention the way he speaks to you after court!" – she turned to face him and puffed up at this, taking a deep breath and sticking out her chest in a clear representation of the ruffled prosecutor – "Good job, Wright. Without you, the truth might have been lost forever."

Phoenix rolled his eyes, immediately finding the flaws in her argument. "Edgeworth is just distant and kind of bashful by nature, and I can't REMEMBER the last time he complimented me on a trial. In general, he always seems annoyed or bored with what's happening, and he respects me _because_ I've managed to ruin his no-loss record. Just let it go." He had half a mind to ask what had started her on this ridiculous topic of conversation in the first place, as Edgeworth hadn't even been particularly friendly toward him recently.

"Oh, come ON, Nick!" she exclaimed for a second time, looking more stern than she had previously. "You're forgetting a whole bunch of cases by saying that Mr. Edgeworth just doesn't care. Plus, the way I've heard you talking about him… you have a ton of respect for him, and I know he does for you too! Maybe it's hard for you to see it, but because you've worked closer to him than anyone else, he trusts you a lot! Just think back to all the cases you solved together, despite the polices' approval. That's a lot to expect from someone like Mr. Edgeworth!"

Phoenix didn't know how to respond at this point. Humoring or encouraging Maya seemed like it could have disastrous results, particularly because even her best evidence seemed to fly in the face of how distant Edgeworth was in his every conversation and action. Still, he couldn't bring himself to directly say no. Truthfully, at one point in time he _had_ been interested in getting to know Edgeworth more intimately.

Phoenix didn't speak for a moment, reflecting upon his first encounter with the now-prosecutor. Back then, he'd had never felt so alone in his life. After being unfairly accused of committing a crime, his entire fourth grade class had turned against him. When an unfamiliar boy rushed to his rescue, Phoenix knew that he'd be forever indebted. Someone who defended him without any other knowledge, despite being the party that injustice had been done to – that had been something that Phoenix had to acknowledge as brave and admirable, even before he came to befriend his former classmate. Really, as an adult looking back on the situation, it seemed like a silly reason to be so enamored with the other boy, but Edgeworth's defense had meant everything to him as a child.

Unfortunately, life was more complicated now. A childhood crush-if it could even be called that-had no place in the real world, particularly when people had such a tendency to change. Accepting that the past and immature dreams weren't worth clinging to, Phoenix was determined to let the matter pass without a second thought.

"Are you even listening to yourself? You do realize this is EDGEWORTH, right? He doesn't have any interest in relationships beyond the professional one he has with the prosecutor's office and police department. It's not even worth thinking about," he said, attempting to sound authoritative and sure of himself.

Maya again swatted a hand impatiently in the air, seeming to not care in the least for her friend's argument. "You're no fun. I wasn't going to say anything to him… unless maybe you secretly wanted me to?" she said, her tone rising with inflection as she proposed the question.

The defense attorney continued to stare at her in a severe, unblinking manner that obviously indicated disinterest. Seeing his expression, Maya pouted, standing with her hands planted on her hips.

"I KNOW that he has SOME kind of feelings toward you. Be honest with me… if he agreed to a date, would you go?" she asked, seeming oblivious to the extent of her question's bluntness.

Gawking, Phoenix clenched his hand into a fist upon his desk, looking away in frustration. He really, _really_ couldn't be bothered with stuff like this right now. Instead of getting angry, he exhaled sharply and spent a moment considering his next response. Eventually he sighed, his hand relaxing and shoulders slumping.

"I'm sure he DOES have feelings toward me, and believe me, they aren't the kind you're imagining. But I give up. Do whatever you want, Maya. I can't stop you from pestering Edgeworth if you really want to," he said in resignation. Taking the road of ambiguity seemed the easiest choice between admitting interest and feigning apathy.

This seemed more than enough for Maya. The spirit medium grinned widely, an expression that went unnoticed by the harried defense attorney. Although he couldn't see it, he could hear Maya springing toward the front of his desk and the impact of her hands against the faux-wood surface.

"You got it, Nick! I'll make you look innocent if he doesn't seem interested, so don't worry! Ohh, I can't wait to tell Pearly! She'll be so excited to hear I'm playing matchmaker!" she said enthusiastically, cheeks flushed and voice high-pitched as she leaned over the desk. Phoenix reluctantly opened his eyes, running a hand through his trademarked black-spiked hair and opening his mouth to protest.

"No, don't tell –," he began, only to be cut off by Maya's next exclamation.

"After trial tomorrow! I'll meet you in the office after I talk to Mr. Edgeworth!" she cried, pulling herself away from the desk and hurrying toward the door. Phoenix groaned inwardly. The girl wasn't about to hear another word he said, quickly slamming the door shut behind her and disappearing with the intent to corrupt his life in a number of unnecessary ways.

Phoenix sighed again, pressing his forehead into his upturned palms. At the very worst, he supposed he could deny any involvement with this whole debacle. No one in their right mind would disbelieve him.


	2. Chapter 2

The trial that took place the next day followed the procedure that the Wright & Co. Law Offices had come to expect: uncertainty, chaos, a sure victory within sight, an unsuspected upset, inevitable failure, an outstanding turnabout, and at last a conclusion where the defense emerged victorious. While at one point this would have been thrilling on its own right, Maya was more than a little distracted throughout the happenings of the trial. Although she helped Phoenix to the best of her ability, for the most part she was focused on Edgeworth.

He looked as severe as ever with his intense gaze and impossibly straight, strong shoulders. The way he seemed to throw such excessive passion into each one of his objections made Maya wonder how he wasn't physically exhausted by the end of the trial. He was a paragon of dependability as usual, and he countered each of Phoenix's arguments with ease until just before the verdict was reached. Really, it was a good thing that Phoenix had taken it upon himself to actually study the case in detail beforehand because Maya knew that she'd contributed little in the way of aid. When not studying Edgeworth's body language, her thoughts were elsewhere and upon a more _intriguing_ case. Sure, seeing justice served was as important as ever, but she knew Phoenix would take care of that. In the meantime, the spirit medium was focused on ensuring that she upheld her part of their impromptu agreement.

As confident as she had hoped to appear to her defense attorney friend, she was not, in fact, _completely_ convinced that Edgeworth "liked" Phoenix. She'd embellished reality quite a bit, overlooked facts, and had ignored her better judgment to follow a very possibly fruitless lead. Maya didn't believe that getting the two lawyers together was a hopeless pursuit – she wouldn't have bothered if that were the case - but they both were so stubborn that there was no promise of success at the end of her matchmaking endeavor. Really though, what was there to lose in trying? If Edgeworth turned him down, well, that would be disappointing… but as far as she was concerned, there was no harm in attempting to bring a little happiness into the lives of two chronically overworked and overstressed lawyers.

Maya was lost in reverie for a long time, chasing these thoughts back and forth. When the final slamming of the gavel announced a victory for the defense, she had just enough time to congratulate Phoenix before she looked toward the prosecutor's bench. Edgeworth was already beginning to gather up his belongings, seeming in a hurry to escape the still-bustling courtroom. With her eyes locked upon the regal man and with unmistakable excitement upon her face, she seemed prepared to chase after him without another word when Phoenix interrupted her.

"Maya… I'd _really_ rather you just drop the whole issue. You know how Edgeworth is… you've been reading too many love stories or something, and he's just going to feel weird if you bug him with this," the blue-coated lawyer said, looking tired. Maya didn't blame him; the trial had been exhausting as usual, although she wondered if his attitude had more to do with the case or the potential outcome of her talking to Edgeworth.

"It'll be _fine_, Nick. And if he says no, then what's the harm? Don't worry, I'll be really smooth," she said, flashing him a confident smile before looking back toward the prosecutor's bench. Edgeworth had finished packing and was already departing from the court room.

"Ah, gotta go! Like I said, I'll see you in your office later today and I'll tell you how it goes!" she called over her shoulder before rushing to accost the prosecutor in the magenta suit, still not having given any real thought to what it was she wanted to say to the man.

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><p>Edgeworth never expected upon leaving the courtroom to be stopped by Maya Fey. He hadn't spoken to her in a considerable amount of time, primarily because he'd had no reason to do so. When he felt a tugging at his sleeve and turned around to find her beaming face staring expectantly up at him, his eyes narrowed in confusion.<p>

"I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a hurry, Ms. Fey. Can I help you?" he asked with his usual brusqueness, dearly hoping that she didn't intend to invite him to one of the defense's celebratory dinners. While he might be willing to indulge that sort of thing once in a while, if Wright and his friends honestly thought that he was going to make some big to-do every single time they faced each other in court, they were in for quite an unpleasant surprise.

Maya seemed off-put by his response, and when he realized that he was glowering and gripping the handle of his briefcase far too tightly, the prosecutor relaxed. Well, he didn't want to frighten her off, exactly. He supposed he did owe the Fey family quite a bit for how they'd helped him in the past.

"A-actually, I was wondering if I could talk to you about Nick," she said, her voice guarded and hesitant, as if she wasn't sure what to say. The obstinate expression on her face and the way her fists were balled at her sides told him that this was unfortunately a matter of some importance to the girl, and Edgeworth didn't doubt that she'd refuse to wait to address this issue some other time. As long as this wasn't a dinner invitation, he decided to listen. Around them, the rest of the people present for the trial steadily streamed out of the nearby door. Edgeworth cast one suspicious glance toward the defense bench and noted that Phoenix seemed to be having a difficult time getting all of his case files back into his briefcase. The prosecutor suppressed a smirk and looked back to Maya.

"Yes?" he asked, not one to unnecessarily draw out an already unnecessary conversation.

"I think he likes you," she stated, very matter-of-factually.

Edgeworth's first reaction was to lean back in surprise. Just what on earth – how was he supposed to respond to something like that? He studied the eccentric girl's face for a moment and the look of excited innocence upon it led him to believe he had terribly misinterpreted her initial meaning. Right, of course Wright liked him. They weren't exactly friends, but they had been at one point, and they certainly had mutual respect that went beyond what most defense and prosecuting attorneys shared. He was about to express these thoughts when Maya spoke again.

"And before you think anything else, I mean he _likes_ you. As in wanting to be more than just friends. In fact, I got him to admit it yesterday!"

The way Maya proclaimed as much with such brash enthusiasm and without any irony made the prosecutor stare wordlessly at her. He was used to the Phoenix Wright and Maya Fey defense team rendering him completely incapable of a response (and like this situation, usually because of the stupidity of their statements), but that was always _in court_. This was… a practical joke. There was no other logical or acceptable explanation. Trying to wipe the dazed look from his face, Edgeworth immediately scowled again, wanting to make it extremely clear to the girl that he was not one for this sort of foolishness.

"Ms. Fey. I don't know what your intentions are, nor do I care to find out, but please let it be known that Wright and I are nothing more than attorneys who happen to occasionally meet in court. I don't know if this is supposed to be some sort of joke to you, or between the two of you, but I have _no_ interest in that man," he answered coldly, glaring down at her.

As far as he could tell, Maya looked like the world was ending upon hearing this. He watched her expression change from increased stubbornness, to disbelief, to the sort of heart-wrenching disappointment and disillusionment that he'd _almost_ feel bad about if she hadn't just spoken the most ridiculous drivel he'd ever heard. Unfortunately for her, it had been, and he wasn't about to let her leave this unwanted discussion without ensuring she was very, _very_ clear on his thoughts on the matter. To his surprise, she didn't immediately give up on the spot (or, he supposed, cry the way less tenacious girls might have done).

"How can you say that, Mr. Edgeworth? That's just heartless! He's going to be so devastated when I tell him."

"You've come to the wrong place if you expect sympathy, Ms. Fey," he answered dryly. To this, she responded with an indignant expression and a more impassioned tone. In any other situation, the way she placed her hands on her hips and glared at him might have almost been amusing. Here, however, it was merely tiresome.

"You know, I don't know what he sees in you in the first place! You're rude, a bully, and understand emotions as well as a rock. He's been obsessed with you for years, and you just choose to ignore it! I can't imagine how much that hurts him!" she shouted. Edgeworth winced; although the room was mostly empty by now and a sidelong glance toward the defensive bench indicated that Wright too had departed, this did not seem like the kind of conversation that they should be having in public. In fact, it wasn't the sort of conversation that they should be having _anywhere._

"I'm afraid I don't have the time to listen to petty insults right now, Ms. Fey, nor do I have the time for childish pranks. I'd appreciate it if you didn't bother me with matters of this sort in the future," he said curtly before turning and walking away at a brisk pace.

He could hear the "spirit medium" yelling at him as he departed, mostly shouting more insults about his callousness and promising to not give up so easily. Part of him was curious as to just why she felt so strongly about this, but the prosecutor refused to consider the issue any further. There were certain matters that were better not thought deeply about, and chiefly among them was any sort of personal relationship with a man like Phoenix Wright.


	3. Chapter 3

By the time she had made it back to Phoenix's office, Maya hadn't the faintest idea of what to do or say. To call what she was experiencing disappointment would be severely understating the intensity of her feelings. She would have never, ever expected her meeting with Edgeworth to go quite as badly as it had. It wasn't as if her expectations had been spectacularly high in the first place, but honestly! Edgeworth did seem the type who was immune to… well, most emotions, but she thought that even _he_ could be swayed by the potential of love. And considering that Phoenix was the only one she'd ever seen him show any interest in whatsoever, the gamble didn't even seem THAT ridiculous!

But… here she was, at the foot of Wright and Co. Law Offices with nothing but failure to report. With disappointment weighing down her every step, Maya reluctantly approached the door to Phoenix's office. Once there, she didn't bother knocking and instead slumped inside, not sure whether sugar coating the truth or being bluntly honest would be easier. As she slammed the door behind her, Phoenix looked up from his desk with reluctance upon his face. He seemed to quickly realize that the conversation hadn't gone well and his anxiety showed.

"Maya, you know, just don't tell me – I'd rather not know," he said in a hurry, looking down again at the bunch of papers that were before him. Maya knew better than to think that he was studying for another case so soon, however, and ignored this. Finding something positive to say about her encounter with Edgeworth seemed… well, frankly impossible, but Maya didn't want her friend to despair so quickly, even if it _did_ seem hopeless.

"Wait, wait just a second!" she said immediately, moving toward the defense attorney's desk and peering down at him with guilty eyes. "Okay, I'll be honest – it didn't go as well as I hoped it would. You were right! Edgeworth is really, _really _the professional type, and he likes to act like he's totally immune to the allure of romance, but I don't think it's hopeless yet!" Her plea was so sincere that Phoenix seemed willing to listen to more and Maya felt hopeful for a fraction of a second, but Phoenix soon shook his head.

"No, Maya, it really is a waste of your time," the lawyer said, shutting his eyes and hiding his face in a palm.

Maya thought about how to respond. Really, it was looking more and more unlikely that this whole "relationship" would ever succeed, and finding ways to justify her involvement when it was only increasing the stress of everyone seemed selfish. Maya was beginning to doubt her initial excitement about informing Pearly about this matchmaking opportunity, considering how doubtful it was becoming. All the same, she felt obligated to explain the situation to her friend.

"Well, maybe I just caught him on a bad day. He… said he was busy and really tried to get out of talking with me. He seemed to think that what I said was a joke or didn't believe me, and that he thought of your relationship as nothing but professional, actually," she admitted at last. Why did Edgeworth have to be so difficult? If only she'd have had more time to talk to him; the prosecutor just had to run away before she could back him into a corner and ask him more pointed questions, namely ones along the lines of "would you potentially be romantically interested in a man". She'd have called it off for sure if he'd answered no to that, but she hadn't even had the opportunity to ask!

When she looked at Phoenix again, the expression on his face was hard to read. It seemed for the most part indifferent, although if she wasn't mistaken, Maya thought that there was a certain amount of disappointment there too… although it was very possible that her eternally optimistic and romantic side had imagined it. She forgot about this soon after when Phoenix responded.

"Well, Maya, there you go. I told you not to do it because that's how he'd react and I didn't want this to happen. Like I said, Edgeworth doesn't give a second thought to anything related to romance… he's completely concerned with being the best prosecutor he can be," Phoenix said at length, sounding certain. After a while of considering how she could possibly argue with that, the girl sighed, resigned that Phoenix was probably right.

"Sorry, Nick. I hope this doesn't mess up your friendship or anything. I… I kind of told him that you said you liked him," she admitted, looking down in embarrassment.

"What?"

"S-Sorry! You know how intimidating he is, and when he asked what I wanted, that just seemed the easiest way to convince him I was serious! H-he seemed to think it was just a prank though, so if it makes you uncomfortable, you could just pretend you didn't know anything about it," she answered lamely, doubting that Phoenix would find this satisfactory. To her simultaneous disappointment and expectation, he didn't.

"Maya! Why would you do that? I'd never - I can't believe you _told_ him something like that. What am I supposed to say to him now?" Phoenix moaned, seeming far more distressed than Maya would have ever expected.

"D-don't worry about it! I can talk to him for you–,"

"FORGET about that," Phoenix responded swiftly. "I don't think he'll know what to believe about what you tell him for a long time. I'll… I'll just talk to him the next trial we have together," Phoenix said at last, running a hand through his spiked hair and sighing.

"You really, really should have just let this go, Maya. I've been trying to rebuild some sort of friendship with Edgeworth for a long time, and it's been a slow and difficult process. He's not the kind of guy who's easy to influence. I'm happy just have a_ friendship_ with him. I hope this doesn't mess anything up," he said, sighing heavily and looking weary. Maya felt the guilt upon her shoulders for being far too enthusiastic about something that had unanticipated consequences. The strained relationship between Phoenix and Edgeworth seemed to be something that an outsider like her couldn't easily recognize.

"Sorry, Nick," she said at length, hoping that she hadn't managed to hurt both her own relationship with the defense attorney and the one he shared with Mr. Edgeworth. Although Phoenix still looked weary and troubled, he smiled again, probably in an attempt to look reassuring.

"It's... fine. I know you were just, uh, trying to do something nice for us... but please, don't do anything so extreme anymore, okay?" he asked, trying to maintain his smile. Maya grinned in return, although the expression wasn't as sincere.

"Yeah, sure, Nick," she responded. "I just wanted to make you happy…"


	4. Chapter 4

Really, Phoenix blamed himself for being so flippant about the situation with Edgeworth. If he'd just said, "No, Maya, I'm straight," or "I would never be interested in Edgeworth and you're wasting everyone's time," none of this would have happened. Unfortunately, he was also not a great liar and couldn't even pretend that there wasn't something that had appealed to him about her offer. He would never, _ever_ have approached the prosecutor about a relationship on his own. That possibility had died along with their friendship back in fourth grade, and he wasn't going to make what camaraderie he could salvage from their professional relationship awkward by introducing his stupid little crush from their childhood into their modern lives.

When Maya offered to act as a go-between for the two of them, however… some reckless part of him had decided to not directly deny her, even though he knew that it would end in failure. For that reason, he couldn't stay angry at Maya. He could have stopped her and instead decided to let her be mischievous… and now he realized that he should have put an end to it earlier. Unfortunately, there was no taking back past actions and Phoenix could only influence what happened next.

The act of confronting Edgeworth after the trial was more daunting than completing the trial itself had been. A few weeks had passed since he'd heard the disastrous results of Maya's gamble. Despite all of his mental reassurances that it was stupid to ever even suspect that Edgeworth might reciprocate his feelings from years ago, it _still _stung to hear the response confirming his disinterest, and Phoenix had been plagued with regret ever since. And after completing the most recent trial (and again, winning by a distressingly small margin due to his distraction), the reality that he had to go over there and address what Maya said to Edgeworth seemed even more worrisome than ever.

Phoenix stared over at the prosecutor's bench. Edgeworth was in the process of collecting his belongings, uninterested in his surroundings and as impossible to read as always. Maya's gaze followed his, and when she realized what he was thinking, interrupted him.

"Are you sure you want to talk to him? Really Nick, I could just pretend it was something I made up…" she offered meekly. Phoenix shook his head.

"No, this is something I need to address for myself. It'll be okay… I'll talk to you later," he said, hastily jamming all of the case files back into his briefcase and, after smiling weakly at Maya, headed in Edgeworth's direction.

"Hey! Edgeworth!" Phoenix called, hurrying across the room to where the other man stood. Edgeworth responded by looking sharply toward his distraction, his eyes and the serious line of his mouth betraying nothing other than impassivity.

"Wright," he answered, continuing to ensure his briefcase was closed before turning to face the defense attorney more fully. Phoenix was unnerved by this; Edgeworth always had a way of responding so shortly, and it always felt like he'd run away and end the conversation before anything worthwhile had been said. That _couldn't_ be the case right now, mainly because he didn't think he could deal with the anxiety of letting this situation go unresolved any longer.

"Um, well, I was hoping we could talk. I… I think that there are a few things that need to be sorted out between us," he said at length, looking up and awkwardly beginning to comb his fingers through his dark hair. When he looked back, Edgeworth seemed less than impressed with this suggestion. In fact, he looked downright critical.

"'A few things that need to be sorted out?' Wright, you know I don't have time for such nonsense. Either tell me what it is you want or allow me to return to my work," Edgeworth responded with a harshness that Phoenix didn't expect. He cringed, wondering if the prosecuting attorney was becoming more ornery with each year that passed. Deciding that if he wanted to actually have a decent conversation with the other man he'd have to trick him in an environment where he wasn't going to suddenly run away, Phoenix shook his head.

"I… I know what Maya told you a few weeks ago, and I want to talk to you about it. Will you meet me somewhere when you have time? I know you're busy and I won't keep you now, but… but you always kind of run away when I try to talk to you outside of actual cases, so I want to talk to you when you aren't distracted," Phoenix said, trying to give the impression that he was being levelheaded despite his obvious nervousness.

Edgeworth seemed about to argue against Phoenix's desire for a more private place to discuss their issue, but before he could, the spikey-haired man spoke again in defense of his suggestion, hoping that his reasoning wouldn't be so easily dismissed.

"I mean, if you really want to talk about it here, that's fine… but it just doesn't seem like the sort of issue that would be good to discuss in public… especially when we're both so popular with the media because of our past trials together, and who knows who's eavesdropping," Phoenix said, offering a shrug that was meant to look indifferent. Really, trapping Edgeworth into some meeting in a more intimate setting seemed unnecessarily complicated and cautious, but shamefully, Phoenix realized that some very irrational part of him hoped that maybe the other man wasn't so uptight when he wasn't on a case. While he never _truly_ expected their relationship to develop, he still had some reckless, blind enthusiasm hidden within him. The chances were slim, but if deep down he had been concerned about that, he would never have allowed Maya to do what she had done in the first place.

Feeling triumphant and watching Edgeworth's expression, he was pleased to see that the other man went from looking annoyed to resigned.

"You are… unfortunately correct. The rumors surrounding me never seem to cease, and I can't say that escaping work for at least a short amount of time doesn't sound appealing. I don't suppose you have any specific place in mind to meet?"

Phoenix paused, being far too surprised that Edgeworth agreed to meet him somewhere to come up with a fast response. He hadn't actually considered where they might go; all he knew was that he wanted a chance to talk to Edgeworth directly, and talking about that in private where Edgeworth couldn't disappear so easily when the conversation became awkward seemed the best bet.

"Uhh, um, not really. W-why not a bar or restaurant? Might as well make a nice evening out of it, since we don't exactly see each other that often," Phoenix offered. He wasn't sure how well this would go over – for one, it seemed extremely forward given the fact that Maya had revealed he'd once been interested in Edgeworth, but on the other hand, he hoped that it sounded casual and relaxed enough. After all, it was most vital that he stress the importance he placed on his friendship with Edgeworth, and what friends didn't want to hang out or get drunk together?

Edgeworth seemed unwilling to respond at first, his face impossible to read. Phoenix was about to retract his offer and suggest they meet in one of their offices instead, but eventually Edgeworth spoke up.

"I… suppose that's fine. Shall I pick you up later today?" he asked, raising an eyebrow and watching the defense attorney in the ridiculous blue suit. Phoenix laughed anxiously.

"Aha, so you remembered I don't drive. Y-yeah, if you could stop by my office, that would save me a lot of pedaling time. Do YOU have somewhere in mind to go?," he asked, smiling self-consciously and really, really hoping that this didn't sound too much like an invitation for a date.

"I do. I'll stop by your office at 7 o'clock, Wright. I don't have much time to waste, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't expect this to be a particularly long meeting," he answered simply.

Phoenix felt a strange sort of elation in his chest that really shouldn't have been there. He reminded himself again that this was supposed to be the meeting for an exceedingly awkward conversation about the fact that he once liked the prosecutor and couldn't stop himself from wondering why Edgeworth seemed so cavalier about it all. Maybe Maya hadn't been as blunt as she'd said? Either way… he tried to compose himself enough to respond, succeeding very admirably at keeping the foolish smile from his face.

"Great! A-and I don't think it should take that long, I just need to make sure of some things – uh, anyway, I guess I'll see you in front of my office at seven," he answered hurriedly. The way Edgeworth looked at him seemed to communicate nothing other than confusion and disapproval, but Phoenix was simultaneously too nervous and excited to really care much right now. "S-see you then," he ended, quickly turning and rushing away from the prosecuting attorney before Edgeworth had a chance to change his mind.

As he made his way back to his office, Phoenix couldn't help but feel more and more insecure. He was certain he'd make a fool of himself, and Edgeworth undoubtedly thought that this was all some absurd joke, but there was nothing he could do at this point to change it. He was going to restore their friendship, even if it cost him his dignity and everything else.


	5. Chapter 5

Time passed at such an exaggeratedly slow rate that Phoenix wondered if the laws of the universe had somehow changed as a result of his upcoming 'date'. Upon returning to the office, he'd done everything short of calling Maya to pass the time; he'd sorted through case files, cleaned the toilet, watered Charley, looked out the window, fixed his hair, and even flipped through the ancient legal procedure books to see if he was missing anything important as far as conducting himself in court was concerned (he ultimately wasn't sure – they were, as expected, too difficult to understand). At long last the hour reached seven and Phoenix consulted his watch, giddy as a school girl and feeling duly guilty for it. He reminded himself for what must have been the tenth time that this was for business and not pleasure.

Still wearing his traditional blue suit and hairdo, he peered into the bathroom mirror for a fourth time, making a face as he concentrated on ensuring that his spikes were precise and that his pink tie was resting straight against his chest. After a final pat-down of his outfit and flashing a foolish grin at his reflection in the mirror, he considered the ridiculousness of this situation. This was _Edgeworth_. He didn't need to make himself look professional… especially after Edgeworth had seen him at his worst time after time.

Gathering his courage and reassuring himself that this would not go badly and he WOULD make sure that Edgeworth wasn't going to be weird around him anymore (or at least, any weirder than he already was), Phoenix descended the stairs from his office and arrived outside of the building at precisely 7:03.

Feeling an uncomfortable stirring in his chest, Phoenix immediately spotted Edgeworth's sporty red car parked along the curb. The other man had been on time… naturally. He approached with caution, as if fearing the prosecutor might drive away if he noticed him walking over. Fortunately, the car didn't move and when Phoenix opened the passenger-side door, he was greeted right away by Edgeworth's less-than-pleased voice.

"You're late."

Phoenix laughed lightly, hoping that Edgeworth's serious tone was just a front and he wasn't honestly annoyed. A glance toward the other man confirmed his suspicions that Edgeworth was, as usual, deathly serious. Phoenix buckled his seat belt and took a deep breath, trying to force himself to feel comfortable in Edgeworth's presence.

"Sorry… I guess my watch is a little slow."

Edgeworth sighed as if he'd been expecting this and Phoenix didn't bother to tell him the truth. Informing the other man that he'd spent the past several minutes styling his hair and trying to look as immaculate as possible in a cheap blue suit would have likely earned him the prosecutor's endless ire.

"I would suggest that you fix that, Wright." Edgeworth's voice sound as dry and irritated as Phoenix feared it might. This excursion was already off to a poor start.

"Y-yeah, I will," he responded, staring hopelessly out the window as Edgeworth pulled away from the curb and began driving them toward an as-of-yet unnamed location. A few moments of silence passed in which Edgeworth drove and Phoenix tried to calm his nerves. Edgeworth eventually tore his eyes away from the road to glare at him disapprovingly.

"Well?" he asked, and Phoenix looked away from the window, confused about what he'd done to warrant an expectant 'well?'.

"W-what?"

"Is there a reason you aren't changing the time on your watch?"

"Oh. I guess I just… didn't think it was that urgent…"

He should've guessed that Edgeworth would be unnecessarily concerned with stupid details like that. He looked down mournfully at his watch which currently stated the correct time and adjusted the little knob on the side until its reading was three minutes fast. Admitting that he'd lied about his reason for being late didn't cross his mind, nor did the fact that he could just pretend to change it and then flip it back.

"There." He stated this a bit too triumphantly, causing the prosecutor to glance toward him again with obvious disdain. Phoenix winced under his ever-intimidating glare and regretted saying anything. He tried to lighten the tense atmosphere in the car with some conversation.

"So, um, where are you taking us?" He spoke casually, hoping that Edgeworth appreciated how mature he was being about this issue.

"A restaurant. Not the sort of fine-dining establishment I'm partial to, as I assumed you would be QUITE obtrusive there in your ridiculous suit, but rest assured that the food at the chosen establishment is high quality." He spoke in his typical, rather snobbish manner and Phoenix wasn't sure whether to be insulted or amused.

"You think my suit is ridiculous?"

"I think you're missing the point, Wright."

"Well… um, how expensive is the food? I mean… I'm not exactly rich…"

The prosecutor made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. Phoenix looked toward him and was disappointed when he noted that Edgeworth was not smiling and that the noise had been one of derision rather than amusement.

"You needn't concern yourself with that."

Phoenix lapsed into silence again, propping his elbow against the window frame of Edgeworth's car and staring sullenly out at the street. This was still going poorly. Even IF Edgeworth was implying that he'd be willing to pay for dinner, that just made him seem cheap and pathetic… he wasn't destitute or anything. Well, not SEVERELY destitute.

"I can't let you pay – this whole thing was my idea and I know you don't want to be here, s-so… I'll just… get something cheap for myself..."

The stoplight changed to red as if on cue, allowing Edgeworth to glide the car to a halt while he focused his attention on the defense attorney, looking weary.

"Really, Wright. I thought you said you wanted to make an enjoyable evening out of this? While I'm not going to sit in a restaurant with you all night, I'm also NOT going to have us look foolish by eating only appetizers and drinking water in a relatively high-class restaurant." He paused for a moment and looked back toward the road, mumbling somewhat when he spoke again. "Plus, I suppose I _do_ owe you for all those dinners you funded after previous trials… even if I didn't want to attend them."

Phoenix permitted himself a nervous laugh, relieved that Edgeworth thought up a reasonable excuse for him to not pay. As much as he wanted to keep fighting him on the issue, he really didn't have the cash and decided to let it slide. The light turned green and Edgeworth accelerated again, driving toward their mystery location.

"So, um… how far away is this place?"

"You're as impatient as a child."

"Sorry… I haven't eaten all day." This wasn't entirely accurate, but the piece of buttered toast he'd had for breakfast couldn't truly be called a meal. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, rubbing the back of his neck and trying to ignore the weird, anxious sensation in his stomach.

"The drive shouldn't be more than ten minutes." He glanced toward Phoenix again, an eyebrow lifted with curiosity. "Is something the matter, Wright? You're acting stranger than usual."

Phoenix fidgeted, stammering slightly in response. "S-stranger than usual? I'm not acting any differently."

The prosecutor snorted, his eyes soon locked upon the road again as he navigated his car through the crowded city streets. "Your body posture is tense, you're unusually quiet, and you keep stuttering when you speak… something is off about your behavior. I'd attribute it to anxiety, and yet, you're far more collected in court where a reasonable person would feel nervous."

Phoenix grew only more flustered and stared out in front of him, shrugging his shoulders.

"I'm just hungry." He paused and then considered the reason WHY he was so nervous. Edgeworth was certainly correct – he was not typically this antsy, even when talking to the intimidating prosecutor. He supposed a better justification was necessary.

"Um… don't you feel sort of weird about this? I mean… after what Maya said…" He studied Edgeworth furtively, hoping to use whatever perceptive skills Edgeworth had used on him to see if the other man's body language said something different than his words. As far as he could tell, Edgeworth was as indifferent and cool as ever.

"Why should I be? We're both adults here."

"Well, yeah, but… that's a weird thing for anyone to hear…"

"It's not weird unless you attribute some deeper meaning to it, Wright."

Phoenix didn't say anything. A few seconds later he realized how suspicious that seemed and spoke up.

"T-that's not necessarily true. I don't attribute any deeper meaning to it and it still seems awkward to me. Even you admitted that you wouldn't want other people to overhear."

"I said I didn't want the media to eavesdrop and that's because they're constantly looking for ways to undermine my character and discover scandalous but patently untrue stories about me."

"Still, on a personal level you don't find it… upsetting?"

Edgeworth sighed again, as if growing impatient. Phoenix immediately regretted his boldness, hoping that his question wasn't too personal.

"I'll allow you to explain yourself, Wright, and then I'll tell you whether or not I find it upsetting."

Phoenix was surprised by this and decided not to answer. Somehow it felt like as long as they weren't in the restaurant itself they didn't have to talk about what Maya had said. Really, Edgeworth probably thought that talking about it at all was unnecessary, but the idea of not even addressing the matter left him unsettled. He couldn't let the issue rest until he'd heard Edgeworth's thoughts and was certain that they were still friends.

They passed the remainder of the trip in silence, as Edgeworth didn't feel the need to speak either. Before long he turned into the parking lot of which, based on the presence of the word "steak house" on the sign, appeared to be a steakhouse. What a relief; steak was, after all, something within the realm of "normal food" and he wouldn't feel like an uncultured oaf for not enjoying whatever fancy stuff Edgeworth expected them to eat.

After unbuckling his seatbelt and exiting the car, he waited impatiently for Edgeworth to lock the doors and head toward the restaurant. Internally, he felt a number of weirdly conflicting emotions – excitement and stress, happiness and disappointment – all of which he was well-aware couldn't be attributed to the fact that he hadn't eaten all day. When they entered the establishment, a server quickly whisked them toward a private booth near the back of the restaurant. Phoenix spent a moment studying the décor, noting with relief that as Edgeworth had told him, the place wasn't too fancy, instead boasting a sort of rustic chic.

Upon taking a seat, they were handed two menus. Phoenix didn't read his, looking toward Edgeworth instead. He offered what he hoped looked like a relaxed and casual smile, although given the other man's almost animalistic ability to sense fear, he was sure that the prosecutor could see right through him.

"This place seems nice."

Edgeworth looked up from his menu for a moment to nod in response, a bored expression on his face.

"I'm glad you approve." As far as Phoenix could tell, he didn't really seem all that genuine. Trying to hide his discouragement, he scanned the menu, rather amazed by the wide variety of steaks available.

"Um… any recommendations?"

"It's a steakhouse, Wright. Everything is good."

"Of course, but I mean… anything that's ESPECIALLY good?"

"I thought you were concerned about the prices? Not that I'm complaining."

Phoenix looked up, fighting the urge to glare at Edgeworth. He REALLY knew how to be difficult when the mood struck him.

"Fine. I'll just pick something without any input from someone who has eaten here before and wants to deny me his useful information…" He made a show of studying the menu intensely. Edgeworth eventually sighed.

"I don't know what you like, but the ribeye and filet mignon are excellent. I would recommend either of those.

"THANK YOU. That's all I wanted."

"No need to be so sensitive, Wright."

Phoenix didn't say anything, still somewhat annoyed. Edgeworth had accused HIM of acting strangely, but if anything, the prosecutor seemed to be in a weird mood – even more obstinate and difficult than usual. Phoenix supposed that might just be his personality outside of court, but part of him believed that this went deeper than that.

Moments later a waitress appeared and asked what they'd like to drink. Edgeworth ordered wine for both of them before Phoenix presumably ordered something embarrassing. He considered protesting but eventually let it go; although he preferred grape juice, wine wasn't too bad.

After the waitress departed, Phoenix looked over at the other man, feeling a growing sense of unreality. So here they were, in a restaurant, about to discuss something extremely uncomfortable. Edgeworth looked up from his menu at length, seeming as unfazed and mildly annoyed as ever.

"Now that we're here… what exactly was it you wanted to discuss, Wright? Something about our relationship?"

Phoenix's mouth went dry and he struggled to answer. Although dinner had just started and Edgeworth had reaffirmed his desire for this meeting to be short, the defense attorney felt certain that they were in for a long and awkward conversation.


	6. Chapter 6

"Right… our relationship…"

Although he'd theoretically been preparing for this moment for weeks, now that he was sitting across from Edgeworth and staring down the prosecutor as though he were staring down his own demise, Phoenix was at a loss. Was it wiser to admit that he'd once had a "crush" on the other man? Deny that he'd felt anything at all? When Maya proposed this situation initially, he'd been prepared to claim no interest or involvement at ALL if Edgeworth seemed disturbed, but… he wondered if just telling the truth would be simpler.

As expected, Edgeworth didn't say anything. He offered no words of reassurance, no comforting smile… just the same serious glare that had intimidated more than a few witnesses into spilling the truth. Phoenix was compelled to confess all of his feelings as well, but he doubted that would go over well. He needed to use at least some sort of restraint.

"I… really don't know where to begin. Maya didn't tell me that much, other than that she thought you liked me…" He allowed his voice to trail off, staring down at his clasped hands and hoping for some sort of response. He wasn't disappointed.

"E-excuse me? That I liked YOU?" Phoenix looked up in time to see Edgeworth's livid expression. He hadn't expected such a strong reaction, and upon considering what he'd just said, felt his heart sink. So Edgeworth really _didn't_ like him. And not only that, but he was insulted by the mere SUGGESTION that he might have had romantic feelings for the defense attorney.

"W-well, yeah… that's what started all of this… I know it's dumb, but…"

He looked down again guiltily, waiting for Edgeworth to berate him for allowing the issue to go as far as it had. When a few seconds passed and Edgeworth still hadn't spoken, he looked up to see the prosecutor staring at him with what appeared to be outrage.

"L-look, I'm sorry! I _told her_ that it was a bad idea and that she should just leave you alone, but you know how she is… once Maya decides she's going to do something, she does it, and no amount of trying to reason with her works."

At this Edgeworth appeared to relax, although Phoenix noted that he still had his fist clenched with annoyance against the tabletop. He continued to glower and was about to speak when the waitress returned with their wine, interrupting the tense mood with a pleasant inquiry about whether or not they were ready to order.

"The ribeye. Medium rare. Two of them," Edgeworth snapped at the waitress, his mood apparently foul enough that he opted to eschew his typical professional politeness. She didn't tarry or even question him on his side choices, and Phoenix wasn't sure how to feel about Edgeworth's hurry to get her to leave. When she wrote the order down and returned to the kitchen, he decided to speak up.

"You didn't have to be so rude to HER, and anyway I was going to get the filet–"

"WRIGHT, just shut up. Tell me, what exactly made Ms. Fey conclude that I…" –he paused and exhaled sharply, as if fearing the word he was about to speak might burn his tongue – "_liked _you?"

Phoenix thought about it, trying to recall Maya's justifications. The conversation had taken place weeks ago and he didn't remember her argument being particularly compelling in the first place.

"I think she said something about how you respect me and no one else and act all flustered around me." He regretted his word choice immediately, and his regret deepened when he saw and heard Edgeworth's reaction.

"F-flustered around you? Just what on EARTH is that girl thinking? I have never been anything BUT professional to you, Wright, as I am to any other defense attorney. Just because we've worked together on a few cases does NOT mean that I have any desire to be... romantically involved. The very idea is… is just PREPOSTEROUS."

Phoenix winced at his outburst, and even though the restaurant was fairly deserted and they were sitting toward the back, a few diners looked toward their table. Wanting desperately to rectify the situation, Phoenix leaned forward, shushing the offended prosecutor.

"Shhh, calm down! I never claimed to believe any of that! Like I said, these are MAYA'S delusional fantasies. I told her how ridiculous it was!"

Edgeworth seemed embarrassed by his reaction, although the only visible signs of this involved the way he turned his head away and his shoulders slouched almost imperceptibly. He continued to stare off to the side when he spoke again, sounding more composed, although his words were very stilted and forced.

"I see. I apologize for overreacting. What I want to know, Wright, is why you even allowed her to entertain these ideas. When she approached me when I was leaving court, the girl seemed utterly convinced that you were just as in favor of her proposed…" he paused mid-sentence, reconsidering what he was going to say, "no, I don't even know WHAT she was proposing with what she told me, but in any case, she gave the very distinct impression that you approved of her actions."

Phoenix very cautiously decided to ask for more information, fearing what he might learn. While he remembered, much to his horror, that Maya had told the other man that he'd had a crush on him, Phoenix had no idea just how damaging her words had been. He desperately hoped that Maya had put it delicately and hadn't implied anything he hadn't specifically told her. "What… did she tell you?"

"She must have told you. Why else would you have approached me for a private meeting about 'what Maya said'? Her words ARE what this is about, correct?"

He swallowed with difficulty, nodding his head and wishing that the food was here so he'd at least have _some_ distraction from Edgeworth's interrogation.

"Um… j-just tell me what she told YOU, okay? I think Maya's been… manipulating both of us in order to enact her little scheme."

Edgeworth sighed again in his exasperated way, although from the quick glance he stole toward the prosecutor before staring down at his hands again, he noticed that the other man looked somewhat less concerned. Maybe if he just pretended that Maya had made all of this up (and really, she HAD done a lot of making stuff up), the issue would blow over and life would return to normal. That would mean abandoning hope of ever… being together with the prosecutor, but Phoenix realized with certainty now that the very idea of a relationship with him was vile to Edgeworth.

"What she told me was that you were 'obsessed with me for years'. I recall it all too well because, as you can imagine, I found this information quite disturbing, but she seemed certain of it. I believe she also mentioned that you wanted us to be 'more than friends' and that you had told her as much the day before."

A very long and very uncomfortable silence passed. Despite his best efforts to remain calm, Phoenix could feel his face growing warm with embarrassment. Maya… ugh, he knew that she'd probably said something stupid, but this was beyond just bad. When he at last found his voice, Phoenix couldn't force himself to look up, knowing that he'd be greeted with Edgeworth's cold, unsympathetic gray eyes. He couldn't stand to see them right now.

"E-Edgeworth, I… I NEVER said any of that to her. S-she made it up herself…" He felt as if a heavy weight had landed on his chest and was constricting his ability to breathe. Not only was this situation extremely humiliating because the prosecutor now thought he was some creepy stalker with a crush, but because there was the ever painful and frustrating sliver of truth in what had been said. Even IF he hadn't said any of that to Maya, he _had _had feelings for the other man for years and _would _have agreed to becoming 'more than friends' with him. Seeing the truth laid out so plainly for Edgeworth to scorn was nearly unbearable. He was surprised when Edgeworth spoke again, sounding flippant. This only served to further upset the defense attorney.

"If that's the truth, then I don't see what the problem is. Ms. Fey told you one thing, she told me another, and ultimately everything she said was a lie. Now, if that is solved, can we please put this issue behind us?"

"Y-yeah, that's… exactly what I wanted from all of this." Phoenix couldn't remember a time that he felt so dejected in recent memory and tried hide his hurt expression. Unfortunately, Edgeworth's keen ability to perceive moods in his opponents (or in this case, dining partner) meant that his bad attitude didn't go undetected.

"Is something the matter, Wright?"

Phoenix looked up for a moment, truly grasping at straws and hoping that perhaps Edgeworth might actually feel bad for so thoroughly (if hypothetically) turning him down. He was unable to respond, as at that moment the waitress returned with their food. Edgeworth thanked her curtly before turning his attention to his meal, beginning to slice into his steak and apparently forgetting all about Phoenix's hesitation. The defense attorney wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

He picked up his own set of silverware and cut into his steak, wincing when he saw how red it was inside. What appeared to be blood began to pool out around the incision he'd made.

"Is it supposed to be this… raw?"

"It's not raw. A steak cooked beyond medium rare has the texture of shoe leather and roughly the same taste. Honestly, Wright."

Phoenix longed for the familiarity and safety of a burger as he put a piece of the steak into his mouth. The taste was robust, the texture buttery, and all around the ribeye was juicy and delicious – but Phoenix couldn't get past the fact that it was swimming in _blood_, or at least, what looked like blood. In an attempt to wash it down, he took a sip of wine for the first time, but his face immediately screwed up at the unanticipated dryness. Couldn't Edgeworth just order wine that actually tasted like GRAPES?

He turned his attention dismally to the baked potato also on the plate, reflecting on their earlier conversation as he picked at it instead. Really, he figured he should be happy. Their talk had gone exactly the way he'd wanted it to go. Edgeworth didn't seem weird about it, the blame rested squarely on Maya, and their relationship would be normal again. Still, he couldn't quite shake the feeling that he'd just lost something monumentally important.

"You don't like it?"

"H-huh? No, it's… delicious."

"Then why aren't you eating? I know I said I'd pay, but this IS too expensive for me to comfortably let it go to waste."

"I'm… just used to my steaks being well-done. And with ketchup, not blood."

Edgeworth visibly winced. Phoenix assumed that this was the ultimate insult to fine-dining as far as steaks were concerned but he couldn't force himself to care right now. Although he still looked critical, in the next moment Edgeworth had summoned a server over and had the steak returned with the instruction to cook it to medium-well. Apparently the prosecutor was not going to budge on the well-done issue.

"That… really isn't necessary, Edgeworth. I've already caused you enough trouble for the day."

"Shut up, Wright. I've already told you I'm not letting a perfectly good steak go to waste."

Phoenix sighed and cut himself a piece of bread from the rustic loaf that had been placed on the table with their main course, chewing on that in the meantime. Edgeworth watched him coolly.

"You're acting strange again. If you have something to say, say it."

Phoenix was surprised that the issue was still being pressed and shrugged, taking an unfashionably large gulp of wine to swallow the chunk of bread in his mouth and practically gagged at the taste when he remembered how dry it was.

"No, I don't really have anything else to say. I guess I just… don't understand how you're so calm now. A-actually, no, that's not true. You're calm because this was all a big misunderstanding, but you were so upset earlier…"

Edgeworth didn't seem to catch on to where he was going with that statement. "I'm fine now. I told you, it was an overreaction."

"That isn't what I meant. I… I mean, the suggestion that you might like me… why did that make you so angry?"

For a moment Edgeworth was the one who seemed unable to articulate a response. His eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"I don't like people spreading rumors about me."

"Yeah, but… am I THAT bad?"

"Wright… I am NOT going to dignify that with an answer."

"Why not?"

"Stop being insolent. This conversation is over."

"No it's not! Why am I so horrible to you?"

"Your immaturity is truly impressive."

"I'm not immature!"

At that moment the server returned with Phoenix's re-cooked steak. The defense attorney grabbed the ketchup from the nearby condiment stand and slathered a disgusting amount on his plate. Edgeworth rolled his eyes in contempt for both the defense attorney's words and actions.

"The issue has nothing to do with you. I told you, I dislike people spreading rumors about me, particularly those related to my love life, or lack thereof."

"It wasn't people spreading rumors, it was JUST Maya telling me a lie."

"What are you getting so upset about? I'm beginning to suspect that perhaps Maya WASN'T lying with what she said about you."

Phoenix's face got noticeably redder, although he attempted to disguise his embarrassment with anger.

"That ISN'T true. I just… I just don't appreciate the insinuation that a relationship with me is the most awful thing in the world."

"I never insinuated that. The only thing I said was that our relationship is purely professional. It's no different from any other professional relationship."

"That's – how can you say that? I mean, from a purely platonic point of view, you have to at LEAST consider me a better friend than the other lawyers you know. I know my methods are kind of unreliable, but I'm good in the courtroom! You have to acknowledge that!"

"I never said you were a poor lawyer. Your methods and tactics are pathetic, certainly, but you're an innovative thinker. And I… suppose you're a closer friend to me than the others. Are you satisfied?"

"Sort of…" Phoenix felt marginally better and regretted his outburst. Edgeworth was right; he probably did look incredibly childish.

"Eat your food, Wright. I think they'll throw us out if that steak is reheated a third time."

Phoenix fell silent, taking another bite of the re-fired meat. To his relief the blood was gone and the taste seemed mostly the same. With the addition of ketchup, it was as good as anything he'd ever eaten. Edgeworth watched him with condemnation each time he dipped a piece of steak into the ketchup or ripped off a chunk of bread, undoubtedly taking issue with his vulgar dining skills. Still, Phoenix appreciated that he refrained from verbalizing his complaints.

"Um… sorry for freaking out. This whole issue has been sort of stressful and I feel bad for involving you."

Edgeworth looked surprisingly understanding.

"It's fine." He smirked lightly, taking a sip of wine before continuing. "You always were melodramatic. Even as a child you would work yourself up into a fit at the smallest provocation."

"What? That's not true!"

"Oh, yes it is. You'd always end up crying over the most insignificant issues. I see you haven't changed much."

Phoenix grinned reluctantly, although he forced the smile from his face to glare at the other man.

"I thought you liked to pretend you forgot all about us being friends in grade school."

"Unfortunately my repeated attempts to erase those memories have failed."

Phoenix didn't know whether that was a joke or not; it was always impossible to tell with Edgeworth's perpetually serious expression. He decided to be optimistic and assume that he was being friendly in his weirdly sardonic way.

"Wow, thanks. Those were some of the best times of my life."

"That reflects upon your current life very poorly, Wright."

"Shut up. I'm serious."

"I know you are."

Phoenix felt his mood improve slightly as the subject changed. Even if the possibility of a romantic relationship with Edgeworth was gone, at least their friendship might be preserved. He continued to eat his steak hastily, supplementing it with bites of baked potato and bread. Whatever green vegetable of indeterminate origin made up his other side dish went uneaten. He looked across the table and noted that Edgeworth seemed to be almost finished as well.

He ate what remained of his steak and put his silverware down with a clatter, eventually leaning back and stretching his arms up over his head to loosen his tense muscles.

"That was really good, Edgeworth. Thanks."

"Don't thank me."

"We should do this again sometime. Or maybe we could go somewhere more… my style."

Edgeworth didn't look amused by this, although his expression was harder to read than normal. Phoenix decided to press his luck.

"I owe you. I can't let you pay for an expensive meal like this. I'll treat you to something."

"I don't think I'd very much like the food at the sort of restaurants you frequent."

"Then I'll take you to a bar. When's the last time you relaxed and had fun?"

"I wouldn't be a prosecutor if relaxing and having fun were priorities."

"You're such a killjoy. One evening isn't unreasonable…"

"We'll see, Wright. You know how busy I am."

"Fine. I'll just keep asking until you agree."

Edgeworth rolled his eyes and didn't respond. Phoenix smirked, reveling in his victory. Soon the waitress returned, looking almost fearful when she handed Edgeworth the bill. The usually stoic man glanced at the total and slid three notes into the booklet, leaving Phoenix to wonder at both the cost of the meal and his friend's exorbitant wealth. After, they rose from their seats and headed back to Edgeworth's car. Despite the heavy meal, Phoenix felt lighter inside, as if some burden had been lifted from his shoulders. He didn't know if it was because they'd resolved their issues or because Edgeworth had agreed (whether he believed it or not) to another outing with him.

As they pulled away from the parking lot and he buckled his seatbelt, Phoenix resumed staring out the window, thinking about all that had been said and perhaps more importantly, what _hadn't_ been said. He thought about what he'd tell Maya and how she'd react, and where their relationship would go from here. If Edgeworth really was willing to spend time with him, he decided that maybe this was good for their friendship after all. They didn't speak much on the drive home, Phoenix interrupting the silence only to complain about how slowly the other man drove. When Edgeworth dropped him off at his office, they parted with a simple "good bye" – Phoenix wasn't sure what he'd expected, but he had rather hoped that maybe the other man would be slightly friendlier toward him.

When he got back to the office he flung himself down in his chair behind the desk, sighing deeply. The meeting hadn't gone as poorly as he'd feared, but Edgeworth certainly left him with a lot of weird feelings to sort out. He resolved to talk to Maya about their dinner the following day, hoping that he wouldn't end up regretting that decision.


	7. Chapter 7

Truthfully, Maya hadn't expected much more to come from the situation she'd instigated between Nick and Mr. Edgeworth. It wasn't as if she'd given up hope of them getting together; on the contrary, she was ever the optimist that it might work out since her defense attorney friend, whether he'd admit it or not, was still obviously enamored with the prosecutor. Unfortunately, from the way Nick had spoken after the trial, she had reason to believe that a relationship between the two would have to be postponed until they both grew up. When the blue-coated lawyer called her the very next day to inform her that he'd been on a "date" and secured yet another excursion with the elusive prosecutor, however, Maya was more than excited.

Her friend sounded enthusiastic and a little nervous to discuss what had happened – at least, that was what she could tell from the phone call. Soon enough she'd arrived at his office and was planted in the chair across from him, grinning widely and seeming unhealthily intrigued with what the lawyer had to share.

"Tell me everything! What did he say?"

She was somewhat disappointed when Phoenix, who looked reserved, lifted a hand to calm her down. The defense attorney's eyebrows narrowed together and he shook his head, causing Maya's hopes to sink.

"It's… not nearly as good as you're hoping, I promise you," the lawyer assured her. Maya felt disappointed for a fragment of a second before recalling that Phoenix was possibly the most negative person she knew.

"Well? What happened?"

Phoenix sat up a bit straighter in his chair, looking at her disapprovingly. Maya shrunk back, afraid of what she might've done to warrant his anger.

"Well, FIRST OF ALL, he was shocked to discover that you thought he liked ME. Apparently you forgot to mention that suspicion to him when you met."

Maya's face turned red and she looked down. Oh… that was bad. She'd never really expected Edgeworth to take her words so seriously, and stretching the truth had seemed a lot easier at the time. She ventured a question.

"Um… well, what did he say to that?"

From Phoenix's angry expression, this wasn't the proper response, but she furrowed her brow and refused to back down. Nick continued to look annoyed for a few moments before he gave in, clearly far more eager to share his information than he cared to admit.

"Well, he… sounded really against the idea of dating me, but that seems more because he doesn't want people to know about his romantic life than because he hates me."

"And how'd you decide on that?"

Nick looked uncomfortable. "We… had kind of a weird discussion about it. He really, REALLY seems averse to relationships. I think his upbringing has something to do with it. But the IMPORTANT thing is that he agreed to hang out with me again. I mean… uh, not… like a date, but because I think he wants to maintain our friendship."

Maya smirked slightly, which caused the defense attorney to glare at her, although she was certain that the expression was halfhearted. After the conversation she'd had with Edgeworth, she'd been fairly sure that, save for a miracle, there was no chance for a relationship to develop between the two any time soon. To hear that Mr. Edgeworth was considering another date – no, outing – was an incredibly pleasant surprise.

"Nick… you called me here way too early in the morning. Be honest… DO you like him?"

The lawyer looked flustered and not about to admit as much. He stiffened his shoulders and narrowed his eyes.

"Stop asking that! He's a friend… I want to reestablish our friendship, and this looks like an opportunity to do just that. I'm not going to mess it up AGAIN by asking him to 'date' me."

Maya couldn't help but grin. "Nahhhh, you like him! That's why you're so excited. I know you, Nick. Only Edgeworth makes you act this way – we've known each other for a long time, so don't try to deny it!"

From the slight blush appearing on the defense attorney's face, she knew she'd struck a chord. Smirking, she watched as Phoenix glanced away with obvious embarrassment.

"Maya… I'm not comfortable talking about this…"

She'd expected a confession, but that response was equally telling and pathetic. Maya felt guilty once again for interfering, and from the humiliated expression on Nick's face, he wasn't feeling any better than she was.

"Ah, look, I'm sorry… I really just want to help you out. There's really nothing wrong with you liking Mr. Edgeworth, but uh, if you don't… t-that's fine…"

It usually took a lot to make Maya feel awkward, but Phoenix's denial had been successful at it. She bit her lip, regretting ever asking in the first place. The lawyer, however, seemed to notice her guilt and cleared his throat, smiling in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Sorry… I guess I just get weird about stuff like that. I don't… want to think about having a relationship with Edgeworth right now. He's really against the idea. If I just knew WHY, though, it wouldn't be so bad, but he just HATES relationships."

Maya perked up at this. That was definitely within the realm of comfortable yet personal questions she was willing to ask – or at least, have Phoenix ask Edgeworth.

"Well, if you don't know why he's against them, ask!"

Phoenix balked at the suggestion, shaking his head resolutely.

"No, I mean, I guess I know why. He TOLD me. He doesn't want attention from the press, since they're so obsessed with him and his trials. They're ESPECIALLY interested in trials between the two of us. I can see why he wouldn't want to publicly associate with me or anyone else."

Maya wasn't convinced by this. So the media found out. So what? Edgeworth didn't have trouble telling anyone else to go away or stop bothering him. Plenty of famous people had relationships; if anything, that sort of thing increased their popularity. Even the gay ones, which she assumed might be the problem.

"I really don't think he has a good reason to be against dating you, or anyone for that matter. I mean, I'm pretty sure your past trials together convinced him that he's WAY too snooty and needs to live in the real world and have FRIENDS… I don't think a relationship is a far reach from that."

Phoenix sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Yeah, I know. I wish he weren't so stubborn too, but as I've told you a million times, Edgeworth isn't the type of guy to change. Even getting him to talk normally to me is a chore and an accomplishment. I got him to reference our past when we were at dinner – that surprised me. I really thought he'd forced himself to forget about all of that."

Maya tried to keep the wistful, romantic look from her face. She could barely even imagine what Edgeworth was like as a child, but hearing the story about how he'd defended Nick… that was unbearably adorable. The fact that the prosecutor still remembered and appreciated such days was a good sign. Maybe it meant Edgeworth did just want to be friends, but… Maya's initial suspicions that the prosecutor liked the defense attorney remained.

"Wow, great job, Nick. What did you plan on talking to him about when you go out with him again?"

The defense attorney still looked bashful and eventually shrugged his shoulders.

"I didn't actually plan on asking him anything in particular. I mean, I just wanted to hang out with him and get to know him."

No, no, no way! This was such a prime opportunity that Maya was annoyed that Nick was taking it so casually.

"Nick, don't you DARE. You have a special opportunity! Ask what REALLY matters! What's his type? Has he ever dated before? Why doesn't he date now and keep it private? Why's he so LAME?"

"Maya, I can't ask that! That's rude! Especially the last one!"

Maya slammed her fists down against the desk before Phoenix could protest anymore.

"Stop it! I want to know, I know YOU want to know, so do it! Honestly, don't you want to know for sure whether or not he's interested in men?"

Maya wasn't prepared at all for how much Phoenix blushed from this question. Maybe living in a relatively isolated village had skewed her perceptions, but her friend reacted as if this were the single most embarrassing suggestion she could make. The defense attorney vocalized his concerns soon after.

"M-Maya! I'd NEVER ask that. T-That's so rude!"

Maya stood up abruptly, placing her hands on her hips and looking severe.

"Rude! Why? It's a simple question! And if he says he's into women, then you're off the hook, but what if he says he likes men?"

Phoenix again looked taken aback, as if the possibility that the conversation might come to this was unthinkable.

"I-I'd never…"

"DO YOU LIKE HIM OR NOT?"

Both of them were awkwardly quiet after Maya yelled as much, and the spirit medium immediately regretted her word choice; the defense attorney's face only grew redder and he looked away, unable to speak. She cleared her throat, looking down guiltily.

"Sorry, I'm really sorry. I mean it. Um… I guess that's for you to figure out. Still, if he agreed to hang out with you, you should at LEAST find out about his preferences, right? He's a human like the rest of us, despite how cold he seems… and maybe he'd loosen up with a few drinks."

Phoenix looked doubtful and still upset, although eventually he sighed.

"I guess you're right. I… I do want to know about his… preferences. I shouldn't, and I'm a horrible person for caring, but maybe if I found out it'd be easier to… let this go."

From what she could tell, Phoenix was still blushing furiously, but Maya tried her best to look reassuring, reaching a hand across to grasp the attorney's tightly clenched fist.

"Don't worry so much, Nick. No matter what your, uh, orientation is, you have my support… and Edgeworth does too! I want you two to be happy, and I think you could be!"

The weak smile on Phoenix's face spoke volumes, but Maya didn't press the issue. As long as her friend was still interested in Edgeworth, whether it was to restore their friendship or build a relationship, Maya intended to help.

"Maya, you REALLY have to stop thinking that this is going to have a happy ending. I'll try my best, but I can almost guarantee that any possibility of a… relationship would end after I ask Edgeworth stuff so blatantly. I appreciate that you care about us, but this isn't exactly viable."

As she often did, Maya attempted to smile brightly to dissuade her friend's fears.

"It'll be okay! It sounds like you've done a good job so far… just keep it up and ask him some more probing questions. If you're really concerned about him shutting you down, just act like these are questions good friends are supposed to talk about! I'm SURE you'll find out that he's more interested in you than he says."

Maya's expression was one of utter conviction, although the hesitance on the face of her friend gave her pause. Soon after she changed the subject to their next trial, but secretly Maya maintained her belief that the defense attorney could indeed win over his prosecutor friend and potential love interest.


	8. Chapter 8

After their rather spontaneous dinner date, Edgeworth had a difficult time placing his emotions. Wright was a neurotic, unpredictable enigma of a man and he felt perpetually unprepared to deal with the overly sentimental thoughts the defense attorney frequently admitted to him. Though he'd tried his best to seem cool and casual over dinner, in reality he'd struggled not to betray the terribly awkward feelings the situation had inspired within him. Wright had denied any form of romantic intent, but he couldn't help but wonder if what Maya Fey had told him was true-that the defense attorney had something of a 'crush' on him and that this was the underlying reason for all of his recently stranger than usual behavior.

Presuming such a thing about him seemed wrong; what Wright did or didn't feel for him was none of his business and he had more important matters to attend to, but all the same, he found his mind frustratingly replaying the conversation of that night over and over again during the following days. The evidence was certainly there to suggest Wright's obsession with him wasn't just platonic. What gave him pause more than his moral qualms about being presumptuous, however, was his own inability to deal with the possibility. Wright _was _different. He wasn't normal in any sense of the word, and he'd been forced to grudgingly accept that the defense attorney was, in every aspect, someone he greatly respected. Thoroughly rejecting the propositions he'd received over the years from others had been easy. With Wright, he felt some strange form of guilt that prevented him from outwardly denying every invitation he made to socialize. It seemed he was willing to put up with nonsense, but only when Wright was the one responsible for it.

When they met next in court, he didn't behave any differently than he would have had their conversation never occurred. Wright seemed flustered as always, but Edgeworth attributed this to his typically shaky understanding of the case. Somehow the defense blustered their way to another victory, which at one point would have sent the prosecutor into a fit of rage and a week's worth of mumbling "Wright" under his breath when bitter memories of the lost trial returned to his mind, but these days it didn't matter so much to him. The truth was more important than a petty win record. He didn't intend to linger long after the trial concluded and he certainly had no intention of starting a conversation with the defense attorney, but it seemed Wright had other ideas.

He'd barely managed to open his briefcase and put his case files away before he heard approaching footsteps and looked up to see Wright's sheepish, grinning face. He noted with no surprise whatsoever that the lawyer had neglected to pack up his own files before walking over, and a quick glance toward the defense's side of the room revealed Maya Fey watching them with an excited smile on her face. She looked away as soon as she realized he was looking and began to put away Phoenix's files for him, but the fact that she'd been staring was rather… revealing. He could only imagine that Wright intended to invite him out once again, and his mystic friend was in on it.

"Wright," he greeted tersely, looking down again to finish putting away his materials. He could easily imagine the trepidation and eagerness on Wright's face without looking, and when he did glance up, he was unsurprised to see his expectations met flawlessly.

"Hey, Edgeworth. Nice job during the trial… I really thought you were going to win, but I guess I got lucky," he said, smiling and averting his eyes as he placed a hand on the back of his neck.

"I see you're still depending on luck to pull you through trials," he noted dryly. Wright laughed; Edgeworth hadn't intended it as a joke.

"Yeah, well, when it stops working I'll try something else. And it's not ALL luck. I've been getting better with actually, you know, learning the cases beforehand."

Edgeworth supposed that part of the other man's charm was his miraculous ability to pull off victories for the defense without following the traditional methods. No, he corrected himself, not "charm" – it was more along the lines of quirkiness.

"I'm glad. You do have a responsibility to your clients." He snapped his briefcase closed and swung it down to his side. Perhaps this action convinced Phoenix he was about to make a hasty exit, as the other man took a half-step forward and almost immediately launched into what Edgeworth could only assume was the true purpose of this conversation.

"So, uh, anyway… I was wondering if you still wanted to go somewhere together. Maybe to a bar."

He recalled his friend's words over dinner the other night that he would keep asking if necessary and decided that putting it off would only waste time. Wright was going to keep pestering him with this until he got his yes, and if he didn't agree to go today, he'd undoubtedly be questioned on when he was next available. Maybe this would be what Wright needed to see that their relationship was fine and didn't need any… upgrades or sidegrades or what have you.

"I… suppose I could find the time, assuming you're genuinely interested in going."

Wright seemed perplexed by this, if the frown and head tilt indicated anything. He was certain they did.

"Why wouldn't I want to go anymore? I said I was going to keep asking."

"I just wonder if you're trying to prove something to either me or yourself, Wright. And in addition to that, I'm not the most stimulating casual conversationalist and I'm sure I'd rather stand out in a bar." He really WAS concerned with what others would make of his appearance; changing into something else was an option, but it was cold out and _all _of his coats were rather extravagant by the bar-attending crowd's standards.

"Huh? Prove something? I just want to hang out and make up for lost time. And I think you're fine at talking." Edgeworth noted the suspicious lack of comment on how out of place he'd appear but decided to let this go.

"I see. In that case, when and where did you want to go?"

"Well, I'm free tonight if you are… I had this small place I go to sometimes in mind…" The way Phoenix trailed off and looked away made Edgeworth believe that he had been planning this all day and had kept his evening perfectly free in the off chance he agreed. He decided not to disappoint the defense attorney, at least this time.

"I don't believe I have any important engagements. Just tell me when I should pick you up."

"Uh… maybe around 9:00?"

"Very well."

He shot a glance over toward Maya who, after gathering her friend's belongings, had gone back to staring at them. She turned away once more, trying to look inconspicuous after being caught a second time.

"I think you'd better get going. Your fellow conspirator will want to know that I've accepted the invitation." The defense attorney looked embarrassed until Edgeworth was forced to offer a small smile to show that yes, he was joking. He'd figured out fairly quickly that anything that happened between the two of them would inevitably be told to Ms. Fey. Wright didn't even try to pretend that the girl wasn't involved with it this time as well.

"Yeah, you're right. Uhh, see you tonight, then."

He nodded curtly to the defense attorney, who seemed to be struggling to contain his elation. When he turned away and hurried back toward the defense's bench, Edgeworth's own expression darkened. He had a feeling that this was starting to get out of hand… he didn't want to give Wright false hope, and the fact that his previously successful method of keeping the defense attorney away from his personal life was getting more difficult with all this increased contact between them.

What bothered him most of all was that the other man just… didn't get it. No matter how cold he was, no matter how indifferent, rude, or condescending he behaved, Wright _still _wanted to be friends, or if his suspicions were correct, more than that. That was unquestionably healthy, and beyond that, he couldn't for the life of him figure out why the defense attorney_ cared_ so much. If treating their relationship so trivially still didn't dissuade him, he could only assume nothing would, and that Wright would continue to endure whatever abusive, derogatory, or belittling words he said with a smile and a laugh. It was almost infuriating.

Gripping the handle of his briefcase hard, he cast another long glance toward the defense team, who seemed to have forgotten about him completely and were now talking and laughing excitedly about something. Struggling against the part of him that felt envious of such an open, careless friendship, he left the courtroom in a hurry, trying to calm the flurry of inappropriate emotions within his chest. He liked and respected Wright as much as he could another human being, and disappointing him in this regard would make him feel more callous and heartless than he normally did. Despite that, he couldn't force himself to shake his convictions and refused to even consider for a moment the possibility of a relationship.


	9. Chapter 9

A few hours later found the unlikely pair at what could only be described as a small, dingy bar with poor lighting, few other occupants, unsatisfactory heating, and the cloying scent of cigarette smoke hanging in the air. Phoenix wasn't sure how that was possible, given that smoking inside was prohibited, but that didn't really matter; the distaste for the place was evident on Edgeworth's face, and he highly doubted that it was the smell of smoke alone that earned it the prosecutor's contempt.

"I know it doesn't look the nicest, but the people here are friendly and the bar's been around for a long time," he tried to explain, only he doubted this justification for his choice was going to ease Edgeworth's mind. His high hopes for the evening were already beginning to fail and he forced himself with only partial success to remain positive. At least the drive over had been surprisingly pleasant, as Edgeworth complimented him for actually arriving outside in a timely manner and they'd been able to make idle small talk about the court case from earlier that day. Neither of them mentioned the implications of the outing… or at least, what Phoenix was sure Edgeworth thought the implications were. Phoenix had to keep reminding himself that this _wasn't_ actually a date and that Edgeworth wasn't truly affording him the opportunity to prove himself.

The prosecutor looked hardly reassured by his testimony to the bar's worth but said nothing. Phoenix realized that the other man was trying his hardest to not be offensive and felt grateful for the effort, even though he knew Edgeworth's real thoughts. This particular establishment wasn't actually his first choice so much as it was his only choice, as it was the only bar he knew with relatively cheap prices and a short drive. Hopefully the atmosphere wouldn't serve to be too distracting, and with the aid of alcohol, Edgeworth would forget his distaste for the environment. Phoenix realized he was pinning a lot of his hopes on them both getting drunk and could only pray that it didn't fail him.

His concerns aside, he allowed Edgeworth to lead them toward a small table near the back of the bar, presumably so that they'd have the privacy they wanted and eavesdroppers wouldn't be an issue. Given the empty state of the bar, this wasn't too much of a concern anyway, and no one so much as glanced toward them as they took a seat other than a gruff-looking server who immediately came over and asked what they wanted. Phoenix ordered a beer; Edgeworth, predictably, ordered wine. The first two types he requested weren't available and eventually he demanded whatever they had that was decent, the frustration and disapproval written plainly across his features. The man departed with a huff to get their drinks and Phoenix leaned over the table to watch Edgeworth, planting an elbow on the tabletop and cradling the side of his face in an upturned palm.

"Do you actually like wine?" he asked offhandedly, since nothing else immediately presented itself as a topic to discuss and he didn't intend to sit around in silence for half the meal like they had on their last outing.

"What sort of question is that? Why would I drink it if I didn't like it?"

Phoenix shrugged evenly.

"I don't know. Sometimes I think you do stuff just to act fancy. That wine you made us drink at the steak place was so… bitter." Edgeworth looked somewhat offended at these words, causing Phoenix to sit up and clarify. "I just meant, uh, you shouldn't force yourself to be fancy around me because you have some image to keep up…" This didn't help his case and Edgeworth's open glare was as intimidating as ever.

"Wright, do you honestly think that I'm 'forcing myself to be fancy' around you? And as for the wine, I suppose I was far too optimistic about your ability to discern and appreciate its subtle notes and flavors. In any case, yes, I do like wine and the fact that you suspect it's just some act I'm putting on is absurd."

Well, that was already one strike against him. Phoenix internally winced and shut his eyes, trying to find some way to salvage this conversation.

"Sorry… didn't mean to offend. I guess my palate really is that unrefined. Look, I don't want to fight. I was just trying to make conversation." Edgeworth's glare softened at least somewhat.

"If you didn't like the wine, you could have said something."

"H-Huh?"

"For someone accusing me of pretending to enjoy something I don't in reality, you're rather hypocritical. You never complained about the wine when we went out to dinner. You could've ordered something else, Wright."

"Well, I guess, but… that was probably expensive. It's a different situation. I didn't want to be rude…"

"I suppose. I wouldn't normally order for someone else, either… I wasn't quite myself that evening. Next time you should have the opportunity to pick a wine more to your tastes."

Edgeworth looked calm and unconcerned, but Phoenix's heart surged. Next time? Did that mean he was planning on doing this again some other time? And he said he wasn't himself that evening? There were so many questions that he needed the answers to but that he couldn't directly ask. Biting his tongue so that he didn't appear overexcited, he nodded in appreciation.

"Uh, thanks. Although if the wine is as good as you say it is, maybe I should try it again… you know, learn more about fine dining. I'm sure I embarrassed you."

"I was trying to emphasize that you shouldn't bother trying to change yourself, Wright. You don't _have_ to like fine wine and any embarrassment that night stemmed from the scene we made, not from your culinary tastes."

"Yeah… sorry…"

Edgeworth sighed, sitting up stiffly in his seat and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Don't apologize. I'm sure that was more my fault than yours."

The server returned after a rather lengthy wait and practically tossed their respective beverages at them; Phoenix could only assume that this had something to do with the fact that service in a cheap bar wasn't as top-notch as an extravagant restaurant's. He realized his earlier claim that the people here were friendly was also proving to be inaccurate. Wrapping his fingers around the icy mug containing his foaming beer, he studied Edgeworth intensely as the other man surveyed the rather dainty glass of dark burgundy wine placed before him. Again, he could tell from Edgeworth's suspiciously intense gaze, semi-creased brow, and tight lips that he was trying his absolute hardest to not scowl in disapproval. Oh well… really, the prosecutor should've known better than to expect decent wine at a dive bar. Phoenix took a long and uncouth swig of his own drink, inhaling the pleasantly earthy scent of hops and shivering as he swallowed the frothy, cold mixture. He didn't drink often, but beer was something within the range of beverages he was capable of appreciating.

"Ahhh, this is good. You should try yours… maybe it'll be better than you expect."

Edgeworth obliged and he was quick to note the way the prosecutor's face very nearly grimaced. Their situations really had reversed from the last time they'd gone out.

"It's, uh… not what I expected, but I suppose if it's the best they have to offer I'll survive."

"That's the spirit. Not dry enough?" he asked, smirking somewhat and trying to be amusing.

"Truthfully, yes. It's far too sweet; it tastes more like grape juice than wine."

Phoenix perked up, taking another long sip of his own beer before responding. "Sounds perfect. Now _that's _the kind of wine I like."

"Unsurprising." Edgeworth tried the wine again and the defense attorney couldn't tell if he was being critical or not. Oh well; he resolved not to overthink things tonight if he could help it. If Edgeworth wanted to be mean, then he could be as mean as he wanted, just as long as he didn't plan on making them leave abruptly.

"So anyway, when's the last time you actually did something like this? Like, go out to a bar and just relax."

"I believe we discussed this last time. I'm not the sort who visits bars. I'm too busy and they don't appeal to me anyway."

"But… _ever?"_

"Ever. Tonight is a very rare exception."

"I guess that shouldn't surprise me, since you're so… important and everything, but I mean, don't you ever get sick of being such a superstar prosecutor and want to take a break?"

"That's what I'm doing right now."

"No, I mean other than that. Don't you get sick of working all the time?"

"I don't work _all_ the time, Wright… but I do work a lot because it's rewarding, not because I have some image to uphold as you seem to have assumed."

"What? No, I know that."

"I see."

Edgeworth was being weirdly defensive, as if he felt like he was being judged solely on appearances. Phoenix regretted his earlier comment; he knew Edgeworth better than most and knew how dedicated he was to his job and values. If Edgeworth really didn't get that, then… he was really misrepresenting himself as his supposed friend. Phoenix didn't want to give the impression that he thought of their relationship as something shallow. Making quick work of what remained of his drink he considered a new approach.

"Of course your work is really important. I don't mean you should neglect your responsibilities or anything like that, just that it'd be nice if you did stuff like this more often… just hanging out with friends." Phoenix knew that his knowledge of Edgeworth's personal life was limited and he didn't want to make too many assumptions, but he was _certain_ that the other man wasn't associating with other friends in his spare time. Apparently Edgeworth wasn't even going to fight him over this one; the other man shut his eyes as if tired and took another slow sip of his wine.

"I'll… consider it."

Phoenix was sure that this was another attempt at being congenial and that nothing would change, but he hoped he was at least getting through to the prosecutor slightly.

"Good! If you work yourself too hard you're going to get burnt out and then you won't be able to help anyone." He flagged down the waiter after several seconds of waving his hand exaggeratedly in the air and the large man nodded once after he noticed. Another drink was on the way soon, which was good, because Phoenix wanted to get drunk and get drunk fast.

"So uh, anyway, what's new with you, relatively speaking?" This was a weird question to ask since he never knew anything about what Edgeworth was doing anyway, and as such what was new didn't really apply. He just wanted to learn _something _and to get Edgeworth talking.

"Nothing worth mentioning."

Edgeworth really did know how to crush his hopes.

"Nothing at all? I mean, everything's fair game… any particularly intense trials? Uh… talk to… anyone?" Okay, maybe this approach wasn't working since he couldn't even think of questions to ask.

"Let's not discuss work, and yes, I've talked to people. Mostly Gumshoe, if that gives you any indication of the sort of conversation I'm used to."

"Aha, aw… Gumshoe's a good guy, but I can see how he'd get annoying. Speaking of annoying, have you talked to Larry at all lately?"

Edgeworth smirked and shook his head. "That's another subject we should avoid. I've had the good luck to avoid running into him." The server finally got around to bringing over their drinks; Edgeworth seemed somewhat unsettled, as his first glass of wine was still half full.

Phoenix laughed, grabbing this latest mug and taking a long drink before answering. Edgeworth too turned his attention to his glass, putting aside his distaste and quickly downing what remained from the first round.

"Yeah, I haven't seen him lately either. I'm pretty sure he's still trying to be an artist."

"Ah." There was a pause before Edgeworth genuinely laughed. "Yes… I do recall Franziska calling me in outrage when he found her number and continued to insist she model for him. I don't know what she expected me to do; I assume being unable to whip him from Germany caused her considerable frustration."

Phoenix grinned and found his involuntarily tensed body relaxing as both the alcohol and conversation lightened the mood. Perhaps the night could be saved yet.


	10. Chapter 10

"Hey, Edgeworth… I was wondering about something… or I guess, you could say me and Maya were wondering, haha."

The evening had progressed in an understated, casual sort of manner that surprised the prosecutor. Phoenix continued to make conversation in his fumbling way but Edgeworth found himself enjoying the company nevertheless. By this point, his friend was far gone to the influence of his beer. Though Edgeworth had forced himself to choke down a few more glasses of the vile, sickeningly sweet wine and his mind was almost pleasantly fogged, his mental faculties were mostly intact. Apparently Wright had neglected to consider that they still had the drive home to endure, and Edgeworth had no intention of getting so inebriated that operating a vehicle was dangerous, despite the defense attorney's constant and enthusiastic nagging to "keeping drinking!".

"Yes?" The other man was getting out of control and Edgeworth didn't doubt that the evening was winding down out of necessity.

"Have you… ever dated?" Wright's eyes were bright even though they were half-lidded, and the stupid, eager smile on his face told Edgeworth that this was a question of considerable intrigue. Edgeworth decided to play along, at least for now.

"What do you think?"

Phoenix laughed as if this were a hilarious response before shaking his head.

"Nope. Nah, I don't think you've ever liked anyone. You're all business." After saying as much he took another long drink of beer. Edgeworth had lost count of how many times Wright summoned the server over by waving his hand like a fool or outright yelling for attention. The bill was sure to be excessively expensive and Edgeworth wouldn't be surprised if they decided to cut his friend off from more before long.

"You know me too well, Wright."

The defense attorney laughed again after he put down his beer, but he shook his head.

"That's… not true at all. I don't know anything about you." His slurred speech was mildly amusing, but Edgeworth was worried about the logistics of this situation; how the hell was he supposed to cart a drunken, fully grown man back to his office if he could barely walk? At this point he was hardly paying attention to Wright's words, almost certain that the blue-coated defense attorney wouldn't remember a single thing he said in response anyway.

"Really? I thought you claimed to know me better than anyone else."

"Maybe better than anyone else, but you don't ever tell me stuff about your life. I was supposed to ask you stuff about that… like what you do for fun and why you're boring."

Oh dear. He'd had his suspicions that Phoenix was going to use this outing as an opportunity to further Maya Fey's plans, but… hearing the defense attorney slip up and admit it so pathetically was rather embarrassing. Edgeworth hoped that the other man wasn't going to make a fool of himself by confessing anything more shameful.

"What I do for fun? Make fun of me all you want, Wright, but I'm a busy man and I don't spend much of my free time engaged with hobbies. I suppose I enjoy reading, music, to some extent television…" He had no intention of telling Wright _what_ he watched but hopefully this sufficed. Fortunately, Wright either didn't care enough to ask or had already forgotten the question.

"I guess that's pretty normal. Hey, you should drink some more! You still sound too stuffy to be drunk."

"I have to drive, Wright," he reminded the other man curtly for what must have been the fifth time that night.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you keep saying that. But I want you to have fun and you're being too serious."

"I am having fun," he answered promptly. That seemed to be enough to satisfy Phoenix and Edgeworth took another distracted sip from his wine as he reflected. The night _had_ been what could be called fun, or at least, Edgeworth found himself more amused than annoyed. Wright was surprisingly good at keeping a conversation going and he supposed that reminiscing about the past and the people their cases together had influenced was in a way satisfying. Edgeworth wasn't sure if this appraisal had more to do with the alcohol he'd imbibed or the fact that the outing was genuinely enjoyable, but he decided not to reflect too closely on those subtleties.

"I'm glad. I was afraid you wouldn't want to go out with me again after what happened. But anywayyy," he leaned over his drink so that he could stare at the prosecutor seriously, "back to business."

Again he hoped that Wright would have enough sense left to steer the conversation away from here before it was too late, but before he could say anything himself Phoenix was beginning his questioning.

"Sooo, me and Maya were also wondering what your type is."

Too late. Edgeworth fought the urge to groan and sat up a bit straighter in his seat. Perhaps he'd been too lenient with the defense attorney.

"My type? Honestly, Wright… I don't know why it matters."

"Because I want to know! You never say ANYTHING about your 'romantic situation' and you gotta have some type, since you're human." That sounded suspiciously like something Phoenix had reasoned out with Maya beforehand. Edgeworth made no attempt to hide his annoyance, but Wright was too far gone to even notice or care.

"C'mon, just tell me."

"You're getting obnoxious. I think you've had enough beer, too."

"Now you're just… deflecting. Tell me."

"I don't _have _a type, Wright." Phoenix seemed momentarily put-off by that; he leaned back and his eyes narrowed in disbelief.

"'Course you do… everyone has a type. Haven't you ever seen uh… a beautiful lady and been stopped in your tracks?" That sounded deviously worded to drag out an answer about his gender preference.

"Wright, do I _really_ seem like the type who would react that way?"

"Okay, then what about a really handsome guy?"

"WRIGHT."

Apparently the defense attorney was so drunk that his own brazenness wasn't enough to shame him. Edgeworth, on the other hand, could feel himself growing steadily more embarrassed as Wright locked in on this conversation topic. He took a long sip of his wine as if the action of him drinking might distract attention from the blush on his cheeks before realizing that Phoenix was probably too drunk to even notice.

"I'm not gonna stop asking until you answer."

Edgeworth put his glass back down on the table a bit too hard and was glad that it didn't shatter.

"Look, I mean it. I don't have a 'type'. I'm just not interested in people that way." Maybe it was the seriousness of his expression and the earnestness of his tone, but Phoenix seemed to get the picture and backed down, at least slightly.

"Not even a little bit?"

"No."

From the look on the defense attorney's face, this was the worst answer possible. Edgeworth didn't know what to make of this – his reasoning skills had been somewhat addled by the wine, and on top of that, he didn't think he wanted to consider the implications.

"I see."

Wright looked so damn disappointed that Edgeworth sighed, took another long sip of his wine, and tried to find a way to put it more delicately.

"I already told you Wright, I don't have the time for relationships and in addition to that I'm not… drawn to other people. Blame it on upbringing or biology or whatever you want, but I'm just not interested. I _suppose_, considering a purely romantic relationship, I would want someone… mentally stimulating?" Edgeworth didn't even know how to answer that question to himself; he'd never so much as considered it before. In any case, Phoenix seemed in a better mood. He quickly finished what remained of his drink, nodded seriously, and waved frantically to get the server to bring more.

"I get it. You're the kind who's _intellectually attracted_ to people. I think Chief was the same way."

"Mm," Edgeworth agreed distractedly, although he wasn't sure he agreed and really just wanted to shut the other man up. "I would really advise against another beer, Wright. You're already embarrassingly drunk."

"Nah, I'm fine." Edgeworth wasn't convinced, but Wright wasn't going to listen anyway. The bar had become rather crowded and loud as more patrons filed in, but the server was quick to bring over a drink. Perhaps the fact that Wright would owe a small fortune to the bar after consuming so much alcohol had won him the man's favor. To his chagrin another unwanted glass of wine was brought over as well which Edgeworth dutifully began to sip after finishing the other glass.

"Was it really just my reluctance to discuss my personal life that prompted you to ask that?" he questioned idly, although he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. Phoenix took this in stride and betrayed no hidden motives as he was afraid he might.

"Well, yeah. You're so… unreachable. And you hate talking about yourself and romance, but we're friends, and friends are supposed to be able to talk about that kind of stuff."

"I see." He paused and, out of simple curiosity, decided to return the question.

"And what about you?" Phoenix tilted his head partially in confusion, as if the question didn't make sense. He made this more apparent in the next sentence.

"Huh?"

"Your type, Wright. You really _are_ getting too drunk." Phoenix looked embarrassed and let go of his new, frothing mug for a moment.

"Oh, sorry. Um… my type… I don't know…"

"Quiet, pretty girls, I would assume?" The look of confusion on Wright's face reappeared and deepened. He laughed uncertainly.

"I don't think so… why would you assume that?"

Well, aside from this recent suspicion that Wright was romantically interested in himself, a man, he'd never really questioned the defense attorney's preferences. The fact that he was interested in women seemed fairly evident.

"You were madly in love with one, were you not?" Phoenix belatedly realized what he was referencing and he laughed a bit more surely.

"Oh… that. Haha, yeah… I guess I can see why you'd get that impression."

"Impression? Wright, you were insane enough to endanger your _life_ for her."

"Well yeah, but that was… different. I mean, I was uhh, really immature back then."

Phoenix really made it too easy to take digs at his character and Edgeworth had just enough restraint to not comment on the fact that he was still immature. He was going to ask Wright for more information when the defense attorney spoke up and added on to his statement, apparently feeling introspective now that he was considering his sham of a past relationship.

"I mean, I did have really strong emotions, but it was more like… I was in love with the idea of being in love. I was obsessed with someone wanting to be with me and would've done anything because I was 'in love'… she, uh, she wanted to start seeing me again after that trial but after what she did and all the lies, I would never… I'm done with quiet, pretty girls, I think."

"I see." He was surprised by the other man's bluntness before remembering how intoxicated he'd become. Still, Wright's answer was surprisingly mature, especially for someone so wasted, and he was glad he'd avoided the earlier opportunity to insult him.

"I really think that I would've been like that with anyone who wanted me back then. It never had anything to do with a type." Phoenix paused before looking toward Edgeworth again. The prosecutor was sincerely disturbed by the solemnity and sobriety in his eyes as he asked the next question. "You really have never felt anything like that? Not… wanting to be accepted, I guess, but really wanting to be in love or have someone else to care about?"

This question was worse than any of the others because it made the prosecutor feel bizarrely guilty and uncertain. He glanced away awkwardly, shaking his head.

"You know about my family situation, Wright… I was barely human when we first met in court after all those years. When you were obsessed with love, I was obsessed with law and reason and being perfect. There wasn't time to think about anything superfluous."

"But you're not like that anymore."

Edgeworth continued to look away, his chest rising and falling slowly as he sighed.

"No, I'm not, but those feelings are still completely foreign to me."

He was surprised when he heard the other man's light laugh and Phoenix grabbed his mug again, going back to drinking.

"Wellllll, I think there's still hope for you. You stopped being the demon attorney… haha, if you could do that, you can fall in love."

Phoenix seemed happy and confident and Edgeworth decided to not argue with him, even though he seriously doubted that what the defense attorney suggested was true. He wouldn't have any success debating with him now anyway because Wright had apparently lost whatever lucidity he'd temporarily regained. He looked back and coolly sipped his wine, still finding it unpleasantly sweet but discovering that it was no longer a chore to drink. This whole experience struck him as ridiculous, but Edgeworth leaned back and forced himself to unwind as Phoenix drank himself into oblivion, figuring that at least until the following day it would be a waste of time to overanalyze what they had discussed.


	11. Chapter 11

Wright grew exponentially inebriated after talking about his past relationship, and as the night dragged on, his rationality continued to suffer. Soon he was unable to fully follow the thread of their conversations, leading to sometimes amusing and sometimes irritating ramblings about subjects unrelated to the original topic. Their discussions had ranged from a debate regarding the mysteries and legitimacy of Maya's magatama, the creepiness and bizarre success of the Blue Badger, a most unusual argument about the nature of ladders versus stepladders, and to once again, how it was possible that the prosecutor found dry wines more appealing than more rustic styles. Phoenix eventually leaned over the table and stole a sip from Edgeworth's glass, much to his annoyance, and happily proclaimed that _this _was how they should be required to make all wines. Not long after that, Wright couldn't even discuss meaningless issues anymore, and when Edgeworth caught him nearly tripping into a group of people at the bar on the way back from the restroom, he realized that leaving immediately was most urgent.

The defense attorney slumped back into his seat at the table and made a reach for his nearest mug, but Edgeworth snatched it away with a disapproving glare.

"That's enough for one night. You're already going to be miserable in the morning and I won't be responsible for driving you to the hospital when you pass out from alcohol poisoning," he stated sharply, but Phoenix rolled his eyes and reclined back in his seat, placing his hands on the table before him as if in surrender.

"Whaaatever," he consented, his eyelids drooping shut and head lolling back.

"Don't you DARE fall asleep. We're leaving."

"Mmmhmmm..."

That sounded suspiciously like the agreement of someone who was only saying as much so that he would be left in peace and who had no intention of making good on his word. Great. He _was_ to be saddled with the responsibility of dragging a fully grown, semi-unconscious man home from the bar. With considerable reluctance, Edgeworth signaled the waiter over with nothing more than a serious glare before turning his attention back to Phoenix. So much for 'being treated' to drinks. He retrieved his wallet as the server returned with the bill and placed the required amount and a sizable tip in the book provided. The burly man thanked him and cast a suspicious glance toward Phoenix before departing. Edgeworth suppressed a sigh; as he expected, the price tag for this evening was rather phenomenal, actually rivaling the amount that the trip to the restaurant cost. When they were again alone, the prosecutor stood and moved to Wright's side of the table. The defense attorney appeared to be sleeping.

"Wright, we're leaving," he repeated, this time louder and with more authority. Phoenix hardly stirred.

"WRIGHT!"

"Okay, okay," the other man eventually mumbled, opening his eyes and struggling to swing his legs out from beneath the table. Edgeworth moved aside so -that Phoenix could rise shakily to his feet, and a few steps toward the exit of the building confirmed the prosecutor's worst fears-he really was almost too drunk to walk.

"Such irresponsibility…" he muttered, though it was more to himself than the other man as he began to stride toward the exit, turning after a few steps to see how Phoenix was progressing. The situation wasn't going well. He watched as the defense attorney took a drunken step forward and his shoulders sagged; he looked about to pass out on the spot. Edgeworth hastily moved in closer to catch him if necessary, but fortunately the sudden swaying seemed enough to rouse him from his stupor and Phoenix opened his eyes again.

"Think I… could use some help," he drunkenly slurred, reaching a hand out toward the prosecutor. Edgeworth realized that fighting this was impossible and, with an exasperated sigh, turned and moved so that he was standing nearer the defense attorney. As predicated, Phoenix latched onto him swiftly, clasping his arms tightly around Edgeworth's torso; the prosecutor nearly recoiled before realizing that this would be counterproductive to his mandatory goal of keeping the other man steady. Phoenix clutched at him so hard that it was constricting, and Edgeworth felt obligated to at the very least place a supportive arm around his shoulders.

"If you get sick in my car, I'll never forgive you."

"'m fine," the spikey-haired lawyer responded, and with considerable hesitance Edgeworth tightened his grip and led them toward the exit. He could feel the eyes of the late-night crowd of rowdy bar-goers watching them and laughing at Phoenix's pathetic state. The attention was unwanted and Edgeworth tried his best not to feel uncomfortable, but this was difficult given how much they stood out. Wright was blissfully ignorant of the display they made, leaning heavily against him as they approached the door and not letting go even when they reached the parking lot. Edgeworth stood up straight once outside of his car and unlocked the door with one hand, a task made more difficult with the fact that Phoenix was weighing down his every movement. Still, he somehow managed to open the passenger side door and, after coaxing Wright to let go, shoved the other man into the seat with an order to buckle his seat belt.

Once he'd taken his spot at the wheel, Edgeworth looked toward Phoenix, his gaze hard and disapproving. Honestly… there was getting drunk, and then there was _this. _He couldn't imagine why Wright even wanted to do this in the first place if he wasn't going to remember any of it in the following days. Exasperated, he watched as the still semi-conscious defense attorney struggled to buckle his seat belt, seeming to move in slow-motion as he was no doubt seeing double (or worse).

"You really outdid yourself… I wasn't aware you had binge drinking tendencies," he muttered, moving to buckle his own seat belt and inserting his keys into the ignition. As he pulled out of the parking lot and started toward Phoenix's office, he was surprised to hear that the other man had the presence of mind to respond.

"Sorry… wanted to… make a memorable night out of it…"

Edgeworth scoffed openly, eyebrows arched as he looked over to his friend for a moment. Phoenix was a mess. He'd managed to spill beer on his suit which was already making the car smell rank, his usually well-styled hair was losing some of its hold and appeared disheveled (Edgeworth assumed that hair gel could only go so far to maintain Wright's look), and his body was slumped carelessly back against the car seat with his legs splayed and eyes shut in total lack of recognition of his surroundings.

"If you wanted to make a memorable evening of it, you shouldn't have had so much to drink. I'm fairly certain you won't remember half of what we discussed tomorrow."

Phoenix smiled casually in a way that surprised the prosecutor, but he couldn't allow his gaze to linger on the other man for long as he drove.

"I'll… remember everything," he swore, sounding deathly serious. Edgeworth didn't know whether to believe him or not; as genuine as his words felt, alcohol didn't really work that way.

"I expect full reimbursement for this, too."

He didn't, really, although being promised free drinks and then having to pay because the defense attorney was too wasted to find his own wallet was aggravating.

"Yeah, sure, just tell me in the morning." Even more annoying was the fact that Phoenix didn't seem to mind.

"Just focus on staying awake, Wright. If you really fall asleep I doubt I'll be able to wake you and I _won't_ have you using my car as a temporary bed."

"Yeah, yeah…"

Edgeworth doubted Phoenix's conviction, given the way his eyes were still closed and his body posture was utterly relaxed, but there wasn't much he could do to help the situation while still paying attention to driving. And he DID need to pay attention; even being slightly inebriated altered and negatively impacted his ability to steer his car through the busy streets. For the remainder of the drive he opted to leave the other man in peace, focusing on getting them back to Wright's office unscathed. When he at last pulled up to the familiar curb, he shot another glance toward Phoenix who was breathing a bit more deeply and easily than Edgeworth cared for. Unfastening his seat belt, he reached an arm across and roughly shook the dozing man's shoulder.

"Wake up. You said you wouldn't fall asleep," he said bluntly, deliberately increasing the volume of his voice. Wright's eyes twitched beneath his eyelids and he eventually opened them.

"Sorry. Tired."

"Well, we're at your office. I'd drive you to your house or apartment or whatever you have, but I doubt you're in any condition to offer directions."

"I… sleep here all the time anyway," Phoenix mumbled, and Edgeworth rolled his eyes. Of course he did.

He slid out his side of the car and then moved around to the passenger side, hooking his fingers beneath the handle and opening it. Wright hadn't moved. Sighing, Edgeworth leaned over, unbuckled the seat belt for him, and stood impatiently to the side before reconsidering and moving in once more. Phoenix really was hopeless.

"Come on, Wright. I can't help you if you can't help yourself," he eventually breathed through clenched teeth, leaning down and wrapping his arms around the other man's torso. Much to his dismay Phoenix responded by capturing his neck in a tight embrace. Trying not to feel anything at all, Edgeworth ducked his head to avoid hitting the roof of the car and pulled Phoenix up and back until they were both standing outside.

"That's enough of that. Let go."

Wright reluctantly loosened his grasp and instead fastened his arms around Edgeworth's chest again. This was… embarrassing. Hoping that no one saw them, the prosecutor shut the car door and awkwardly swung an arm around the defense attorney's shoulders, attempting to keep him steady as they made their way laboriously toward Wright and Co. Law Offices.

Navigating the stairs and half-dragging the highly intoxicated lawyer was no simple task, and by the time they'd reached the door outside of Phoenix's office, the prosecutor was nearly out of breath. Phoenix was practically dead weight and had the defense attorney's fingers not been biting hard into his suit, he would've assumed he'd passed out completely. Edgeworth tried the door and found that it swung inward easily-apparently Wright's irresponsibility had little to do with how much he'd had to drink and everything to do with his personality. He readjusted his grip on Phoenix and hauled the other man into the room.

The dark office was quaint and rather plain, as expected. The prosecutor was, however, shocked by how neat it was kept-Wright didn't strike him as the sort with a passion for organizing given his chaotic behavior in court. The room was also surprisingly cold, as if a window had been left open, and Edgeworth reconsidered this appraisal. Wright _was _as careless as he'd initially inferred. Now wasn't the time for idle reflections, however, and Edgeworth dragged the defense attorney a few feet forward until his eyes fell upon the black couch. Perfect. He practically threw Phoenix down onto it, which caused the other man to open his eyes in momentary confusion before he sunk back against the leather upholstery.

Well, that was finished. Edgeworth stared at the other man, hesitating. He'd done all that he was required to do, but leaving Wright in such a pathetic state seemed wrong. Against his better judgment he shut the door and located the light switch, flicking it on so that he could see what he was doing. He cast a quick glance toward Phoenix, who hadn't so much as moved after being put down on the couch. He really _did_ look pitiful; Edgeworth couldn't even bring himself to direct the usual scorn he would toward the defense attorney. Insulting him just didn't have the same appeal when he wasn't cognizant enough to feel abashed for his foolishness.

With the lights turned on, Edgeworth spent a few minutes associating himself with the office. As he'd initially surmised, it was kept neat but was fairly boring. After exiting the atrium and entering the interior office, he noted disinterestedly that Wright had a desk, bookshelf, chair, and potted plant as his office companions. He moved toward the window and found that it curiously shut before entering the nearby bathroom. The prosecutor trusted that Wright's statement about staying here often was true, and a quick glance through the medicine cabinet confirmed the fact. He swiftly spotted a bottle of painkillers and, after pocketing the discovery, filled a glass of water at the sink for the other man. Wright would seriously owe him more than just money after this.

He returned to the outer office where Phoenix continued to lay in a stupor. His breathing had once again become regular and unlabored, and Edgeworth feared that he really had fallen asleep for good. Holding the bottle of pills in one hand and the glass of water in the other, he rolled his eyes and sunk down on the couch next to the defense attorney.

"Wright."

Phoenix didn't stir.

"Wright!"

Apparently just calling his name wasn't going to be enough anymore. Sighing deeply, Edgeworth jabbed an elbow hard against the other man's ribs. This managed to elicit a small movement. The prosecutor waited expectantly for a few seconds, but Wright didn't so much as flinch or twitch again. Tightening his grasp on both the bottle and glass in his hands, he once again prodded the sleeping defense attorney as hard as he could in the side.

"Ow!" Phoenix opened his eyes, as Edgeworth hoped he might. "What was… that for…" he slurred stupidly.

"To wake you up, obviously. Take these pills. You're already going to want to be dead in the morning, but this should help," he growled, forcing the glass of water into Wright's hardly accepting hands.

"Oh… you're so thoughtful," Phoenix said, accepting the glass with a suspiciously loose grasp and smiling dopily. Edgeworth pried open the cap and shook two pills onto his palm, which he offered to the other man.

"Here."

Phoenix stared at him as if not knowing what he was supposed to do.

"Take the pills, Wright."

Very belatedly the defense attorney stretched out his free hand and snatched the capsules away. He leisurely lifted the glass to his lips, swallowed the pills, and then proceeded to down the rest of the glass as if it were the beer he was chugging earlier.

Edgeworth waited until Wright at last pulled the glass away from his lips, panting and out of breath. The defense attorney feebly handed the glass back and once more sunk against the cushions on the couch. He shivered slightly.

"Thanks…"

Phoenix wrapped his arms around his chest and shut his eyes again. Edgeworth assumed this was where the defense attorney fell asleep and he got to leave, but the other man exhaled sharply after a moment and scooted toward to him.

"It's so cold in here," he muttered, moving closer until their legs were touching. Every one of Edgeworth's instincts told him to move away, but he remained where he was and forced himself to seem impassive.

"I'm not a space heater, Wright."

"Turn the heat up… please…"

"Where's the thermostat?" At this point he was eager for an excuse to leave, but storming off in a rage still didn't seem appropriate. Phoenix pointed blearily across the room and the prosecutor rose and followed the direction to a dial on the wall. He adjusted it, but the sound of a heater kicking into life didn't occur. Edgeworth turned it up to max before returning it to a reasonable level and moving back toward the couch, as clearly the thermostat wasn't responding to any of his input. He stood before the defense attorney this time, glaring down at him disapprovingly.

"Did you not pay your heating bill?"

Phoenix again seemed perplexed.

"I thought I did…"

"Wright… I knew you were pathetic before, but this is truly a new low."

From what little sobriety Phoenix had left, the defense attorney still seemed capable of looking hurt. He shifted his position so that he could lie mostly on his side, pulling his knees up and wrapping his arms around his chest again.

"Mm… sorry… anyway, thanks for everything…" he mumbled, shutting his eyes and still shivering against the chilly room.

Now he _really_ had to leave. Phoenix fully expected him to depart and he had nothing left to do. Edgeworth sneered at nothing in particular, at a loss for how he should react. Wright deserved to suffer for his chronic and severe irresponsibility, but… apparently he'd also really enjoyed this evening. Edgeworth didn't know what compelled him toward such altruism, but he didn't want to spoil it for the defense attorney.

He remained standing before the couch where Phoenix dozed for a few minutes, pondering what he should do and waiting until he thought the other man was asleep. After several minutes had passed and Phoenix's breathing had settled to a steady, even rhythm, Edgeworth's tensed posture relaxed slightly. He had to be asleep. Still holding the glass from earlier, the prosecutor returned to the bathroom and filled it with fresh water for Phoenix for when he woke. He placed two pills and the cup on the table near Phoenix's head, and then moved over to the desk to scribble a note.

"Wright:

I demanded full reimbursement earlier, but if you are truly so destitute that you cannot afford heating for your office, then I can't insist you pay. If you do indeed need monetary assistance to maintain basic heating, contact me and I may be able to assist you. I hope the pills and water I left out serve you well; I should emphasize that overindulgence in alcohol, no matter your company or the occasion, is dangerous and unhealthy.

Sincerely,

Miles Edgeworth"

He folded the simple note and left it next to the glass of water and pills, looking over to Wright's huddled form once more. The man was truly the epitome of pitiful, but fortunately he did seem to be asleep this time. His body was still curled up tightly and appeared unnaturally tense; Edgeworth scowled, attributing this to the coldness of the room. From his quick search of the office there didn't seem to be any blankets; Edgeworth's expression grew more concerned. He _had_ read something about alcohol lowering core body temperature… He glanced away, trying to dismiss any uncertainties. It wasn't _that_ cold in the office. Wright would survive…

But he was clearly cold. His meager blue suit which seemed to match his appearance and attitude in sheer simplicity wasn't doing much to deflect the chill in the air. He didn't want to... would absolutely refuse had the situation been any different, but Edgeworth glowered again and reluctantly stripped off his magenta coat. Wright would owe him more than money _and_ unending favors could ever repay for this inconvenience.

With resentment weighing down his every motion, he swung the jacket onto the huddled lawyer's body, providing him with at least some blanket against the chilly room. In a huff, he turned and grabbed the pen on the nearby table, quickly scribbling an addition to his letter.

"P.S. – I expect my jacket back tomorrow. My office."

He slammed down the pen furiously, feeling strangely and uncomfortably warm inside. After, he moved back toward Wright to ensure that the other man was lying on his side so that if he vomited he wouldn't suffocate himself-or, for that matter, potentially ruin his coat. He pressed a hand against Wright's shoulder so that he could adjust him as necessary and then stepped away, prepared to leave when the defense attorney's hand moved out, as if in slow motion from beneath the jacket and caught his.

Edgeworth stopped, more surprised than anything that Phoenix was still somehow rational. A few seconds later, he was utterly convinced that this assessment was incorrect and that the man wasn't at all rational, as Phoenix pulled his hand in close and pressed it to his lips in some bizarre form of gratitude. He refused to think of it as something else. Resisting the desire to tear his hand away, his stared down at the semi-unconscious defense attorney with nothing other than confusion until Phoenix at length released his hand.

"Thanks," the defense attorney mumbled, his eyes not opening again.

Edgeworth didn't know how to respond, and so he didn't. He left the room immediately, taking just enough time to turn off the light before he hurried back to his car, full of unsettling emotions that would take far longer than just an evening to sort out.


	12. Chapter 12

When he awoke the following morning, Phoenix had no idea where he was or how he'd arrived there. He was distantly aware of light streaming in from some nearby location, and gradually he realized how cold his legs, face, and neck felt. As soon as he recognized these sensations, he was assaulted much more prominently by splitting agony inside of his skull. For a moment he wanted nothing more than to black out again to avoid what he'd come to recognize as a colossal hangover, but it was already too late to go back. Phoenix noted miserably that his mouth felt as parched and raw as sandpaper, and upon turning his head to the side, the entire world spun, causing him to groan as he was hit with a wave of nausea.

Maybe drinking really wasn't worth it.

Still not ready to open his eyes and face the full consequences of his actions from the previous night, Phoenix lifted a hand from beneath the blanket covering him and pressed it over his eyes. He savored the darkness and warmth of his palm against his cool face for a moment before pulling himself into a seated position. Again the world swayed and he was temporarily destabilized with vertigo. Ugh… last night… how many beers _had _he drunk? He wasn't sure he wanted to remember the happenings of the evening just yet; he was almost certain that his plan to get wasted had backfired. There was no way he hadn't done or said something stupid and regrettable.

His eyes still shut to protect against the glare in the room, Phoenix shivered violently as the blanket fell away from his chest. Why was it so _cold_? He clearly wasn't outside, but it felt like he might as well be. Edgeworth wouldn't have just left him at the chilly bar… or at least, he didn't think Edgeworth would.

Deciding that this guessing game wasn't worth playing when he could open his eyes to find out, Phoenix reluctantly rubbed his face into his palms a few times more before looking at his surroundings. He was startled to discover that he was in his own office. Huh. The events of the previous night were still so fuzzy that he couldn't put the pieces together of how he got back here. The defense attorney glanced around the room once as if it might clue him in on what had happened and then struggled to his feet. He was about to stagger to the bathroom in search of painkillers when his eyes dropped to the couch he'd previously been sleeping on.

Phoenix's breath hitched in his throat when he spotted what was instantly identifiable as Edgeworth's coat lying there. That hadn't been a blanket covering him earlier – it had been the prosecutor's _jacket_. But why? Feeling flushed with heat despite how utterly freezing the room was, Phoenix tried not to get too ahead of himself. There had to be some good explanation of why he'd apparently stolen Edgeworth's jacket to use as a blanket. It was probably… probably something foolish he'd done or insisted upon while drunk. If he could just _remember_ something…

He was so lost in contemplation that for a moment he was able to block out even the pain and dizziness of a night of hard drinking, but the moment didn't last long. When the memories Phoenix sought didn't instantly flood back to him in a sudden rush of awareness, he shook his head in frustration. He just wanted medicine and to go back to sleep… preferably somewhere very dark. The meager shades in the room weren't doing much to keep the bright morning sunlight out. Yawning, Phoenix turned to move toward the bathroom once more before noticing that the end table had a bunch of stuff laid out on it.

Moving in closer, the lawyer noted with a surge of undeserved joy that there was a glass of water already waiting there for him. And pills! He grabbed them and swallowed them within seconds, then downed what remained of the glass of water as if he'd been dying of thirst. After wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he also noted a folded piece of paper, which he grabbed and opened immediately.

Holding the note before his face, he quickly recognized Edgeworth's elegant, precise script. Scanning the message it contained, he could feel himself growing increasingly warmer with fresh embarrassment as it confirmed a number of his fears. So Edgeworth had done all of this for him… even though he'd made a drunken fool of himself. He'd even parted with his beloved jacket willingly; Phoenix didn't think he'd ever even seen the prosecutor NOT wearing that pink outfit since they'd been reunited after all of these years. Well, great; now Edgeworth assumed that he was too poor to pay his bills. That wasn't true. He _thought _he'd paid them…

Deciding not to focus on trivial details, Phoenix quickly skimmed the note once more. Edgeworth's words in the postscript seemed to have lost the quality of neatness that exemplified the body of the message, as if he'd been in a hurry or exceptionally angry while penning them. Phoenix assumed the latter. Still, the fact that Edgeworth was willing to spare him a jacket _had _to be a sign he cared. The image of the cold, inhuman Edgeworth who was prepared to get him a guilty verdict just three years ago seemed nearly irreconcilable with an Edgeworth who felt sympathetic enough to offer him the shirt off of his back, so to speak. Even_ if _Edgeworth had done so angrily or reluctantly or because he felt obligated, he'd still _done it. _Despite how utterly wretched he felt from a night of heavy drinking, Phoenix couldn't fight back the giddiness that had threatened to overwhelm him earlier.

His plans to go back to sleep had to be called off, at least temporarily, because he had every intention of returning Edgeworth's jacket to him as soon as possible. Still, Phoenix wasn't going anywhere until he was certain he didn't look like death itself. As much as he desired an extensively long and warm shower, with the gas turned off this didn't seem possible, and going back to his apartment seemed unnecessarily time consuming. With a sigh he moved into the bathroom once again, turning to stare at his reflection.

Phoenix figured it wasn't possible for him to look worse. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes, his hair was a mess and instead of sticking out behind him in exact spikes, it had deflated into limp strands, and he looked sickeningly pale and tired. Really, the appearance fit his mood quite aptly, and Phoenix assumed he deserved it for what he'd done the previous night. He turned on the cold water and leaned over the sink to splash some on his face in a half-hearted attempt to revive himself, taking a moment to seriously try remembering what _had_ happened the previous night.

He recalled the first part well-enough. Edgeworth had made it difficult to discuss stuff initially, but eventually they were able to move on to talking about the shared trials between them. That had gone on for quite a while; Phoenix remembered putting forth a conscious effort to _not_ include Maya in any of those conversations, as he didn't want the prosecutor to assume that their discussions had anything to do with romance. With that established, though, he also hazily remembered asking Edgeworth questions that Maya had inspired. He just couldn't remember if he'd mentioned his spirit medium friend in relation to them or not.

Phoenix shivered as the cold water dripped from his chin to the sink, and he grabbed a hand towel from the nearby rack to rub vigorously against his face. The cold water and air was supposed to revive him, but Phoenix felt more exhausted than ever. What else was there…?

He'd asked Edgeworth something about his type… and the other man had stated that it was intellectual. Or at least, that's what he remembered. After that, everything got really, really fuzzy. He remembered yelling at the server for more drinks and Edgeworth looking at him disapprovingly… he remembered even more indistinctly Edgeworth practically dragging him to his car, but beyond that: nothing.

Sighing, he put the hand towel back and looked at his weary face in the mirror again. Well, no use lamenting over the past. Maybe Edgeworth could fill him in on what he'd forgotten. The defense attorney summoned a smile and, while studying his reflection carefully, ran his hands beneath the cold sink water again and worked on fixing his hair. Even if he couldn't feel perfectly revitalized, he'd at least look appropriate before heading over to Edgeworth's office.

That thought alone was "giving him butterflies", though Phoenix refused to consciously acknowledge it as such. He just hoped that Edgeworth wouldn't shut the door in his face after taking his coat back.

Phoenix ensured that his hair looked presentable enough and soon after returned to the outer room of the office, sinking heavily against the couch. His eyes couldn't help but stray to Edgeworth's coat. He averted his gaze guilty as if someone might be watching but eventually reached a hand over and pulled the jacket toward him. The expensive article of clothing was just that: an expensive article of clothing. But somehow… it meant so much more than that.

Feeling more guilty than he'd ever felt for almost anything else in his life, Phoenix shut his eyes and leaned back against the couch, clutching the jacket to his chest and hugging it tightly. He pushed himself into at lying position on his back, still clutching the jacket close to him. It smelled vaguely floral, which was probably due to some kind of fancy cologne. Whatever it was, it reminded him of Edgeworth.

He remained like that for a long while until the guilt overwhelmed him and, shamefaced, he sat up and folded the jacket so that it looked appropriately neat. The polite thing to do would involve taking it to the dry cleaners first, but Phoenix both hoped and expected that Edgeworth wanted it back as soon as possible. He placed the folded jacket on his desk and stopped in the bathroom once more to look at his bedraggled appearance before deciding to move out. Though it was still morning, Edgeworth seemed decidedly like a 'morning person', night out for drinking notwithstanding.

He was about to leave when he remembered one more thing – Maya. If he didn't keep her up to date, he was sure that the spirit medium would storm angrily into his office demanding the details. He called her reluctantly and was relieved when he was instructed to leave a message by an automated service.

"Hey, Maya. Um… I'm not sure what to tell you about what happened last night, mostly because I got too drunk… I really can't remember much. But um… I do kind of remember asking Edgeworth what his type was and he said he didn't have one and that it's all intellectual to him. I guess… make of that what you will? I really can't remember anything past that except him apparently helping me get back to my office. I woke up this morning to a freezing cold office and with his jacket on me. On that note, did you remember to mail in my bills? Anyway, I'm going over to return his jacket now. If you want to know more, call me back and we can talk about it later today."

He hung up, his heart racing as he stated everything so explicitly, and the feeling of unreality only got worse as he picked up the jacket and left his office. Phoenix fully expected Edgeworth to be extremely hostile and angry about the night before, but he couldn't stop himself from feeling openly optimistic at this point. The hope might have been impractical, but if Edgeworth hadn't intended to give to him any hope at _all_, he shouldn't have left such a potentially meaningful sign.


	13. Chapter 13

The night before had been pleasant at first and almost nightmarishly bizarre by its conclusion. Edgeworth returned home in a hurry, and although he'd gone straight to bed, his anxiety refused to let him get more than a few hours of sleep. He woke the next morning feeling, somehow, even more tired than he had prior to sleeping and decided that if anything was going to relieve his overwrought mind from its ceaseless wandering, it was work. After a scalding shower and a calming cup of tea, the prosecutor dressed in a fresh suit-missing, of course, his traditional jacket-and headed to his office for the day.

Getting lost in paperwork and court files seemed like a reasonable enough plan, and for a while, it worked admirably. He'd sacrificed an evening of productivity for his outing with Wright, and as such he was able to distract himself by filling out accrued paperwork of debatable importance. Unfortunately, the task was tedious, and as the more noteworthy papers were filed away into folders and the stack of documents to sort through dwindled, the prosecutor's mind returned to the one thing he desperately wanted to avoid contemplating: Wright.

Thoughts of the defense attorney had assaulted his waking and unconscious mind alike in the short span of time that had separated the previous night and this following morning, and Edgeworth hated it. It was Wright, _always_ Wright who did this to him-took him out of his work and forced him to consider petty, unimportant matters. Only this time, Wright's influence wasn't just affecting his court cases. This time, he'd had a direct and quite tangible impact on his personal life, and feeling highly disturbed, Edgeworth realized that the defense attorney had effectively destroyed what remained of the barriers he'd set up to keep Wright away from him.

This wasn't working, and Edgeworth couldn't fathom the thought of allowing the situation to deteriorate any further than it already had. Keeping up with his work was infinitely more important than dealing with the fallout from the ludicrously stupid situations Wright somehow involved them both in, and he couldn't permit himself to feel flustered like this over such foolish matters anymore. The prosecutor huffed in annoyance, staring down at his case files as if they were the accused party as he scribbled a few frantic notes. He muttered something indiscernible under his breath, his expression penetrating and vaguely haunted.

"Uh… sir? Is something wrong?"

Forgetting that Gumshoe was in the office with him was almost too easy; the prosecutor was accustomed to tuning the oftentimes irritating detective out when he was unneeded, and considering the sorts of tasks Gumshoe carried out for him, that was almost always. His supreme irritation and desire to vent, however, compelled Edgeworth to answer the man directly instead of brushing the question off as he might have done on a typical day.

"I… suppose you could say I'm conflicted. Annoyed."

He regretted his decision to share his mental woes almost immediately, as Gumshoe took this as an open invitation to converse and would no doubt ask probing and unwanted questions. At the moment, the loyal but bumbling detective was scaling the ladder leaning against the prosecutor's bookshelf. He was brandishing a rather worn feather duster in one hand and turned precariously on the ladder to face Edgeworth.

"Annoyed? No offense sir, but you seem annoyed most of the time."

Edgeworth bristled with the aforementioned annoyance but didn't deny it. He also couldn't stop himself from responding, somehow inexorably drawn to discussing his plight.

"Yes, well, I'm particularly annoyed today." Gumshoe looked at him with sympathy, his big eyebrows bunched together in a manner obviously meant to convey understanding. Considering he hadn't even explained what he was annoyed about, this show of being empathetic seemed excessive.

"Is it because you lost that case, sir?" the detective ventured, and Edgeworth realized that this was why he looked so concerned. Edgeworth scowled, and Gumshoe's scorned puppy dog face grew only more pathetic. He supposed that the man's reaction probably stemmed from the fact that a lost court case used to mean weeks of him brooding. Apparently Gumshoe still hadn't gotten used to the fact that losing was no longer a major concern of his.

"No. This has more to do with… personal matters." At this, Gumshoe's concerned expression dissipated, replaced with one indicating intrigue. He turned around and began dusting the intimidatingly large collection of legal books piled on the shelf before him, although he answered readily to Edgeworth's statement.

"Personal matters? Does this have to do with romance, sir? I know the ladies are always swarming over you."

Edgeworth's scowl deepened for a moment and he didn't respond. He didn't want to agree with the detective, especially because romantic intent was ambiguous at best, but he also couldn't deny that this _was_ the primary cause for all of his recent concerns. Gumshoe seemed to take his extended silence as confirmation that his suspicions were correct; he let out a slight "hah!" as he cleaned, his posture becoming excited again. Edgeworth felt practically sick at the sight of such eagerness to indulge in gossip, but all the same, he couldn't force himself to tell his assistant to shut up and get back to work.

"Well, what sort of lady problems are you having? Spurned for a date? A recent breakup? Unrequited love?" Edgeworth scoffed at all of the possibilities presented.

"Detective, you really must stop perpetuating such nonsense about me. My love life is, and always will be, nonexistent."

Gumshoe's shoulders slouched with what Edgeworth assumed was mild disappointment, but the detective refused to cease his questioning.

"Well, if you say so, sir… but if it's not any of that, what is it?"

Edgeworth sighed again, putting down his pen and rubbing at his temples slowly. He was silent for a while, not sure what he wanted to tell the detective. This wasn't "lady problems". He knew how to deal with that… well, for the most part. He fought the urge to shudder as his mind absently turned to that terrifying old woman who still sent him flowers and cards on an alarmingly regular basis. But with most women, all he had to do was ignore their advances, pretend to be ignorant of their intentions, and make it obvious that he had no interest whatsoever in them. And because he _wasn't_ interested in them at all, that wasn't hard to do. But Wright… Wright completely unbalanced him, and there was no getting around it.

The previous night, the defense attorney had been drunk-beyond wasted, in fact. Edgeworth himself had still been somewhat tipsy by the time he'd heaved the other man to his room, and perhaps that had contributed to his embarrassing display of generosity, but he hadn't been a fraction as intoxicated as Phoenix. Really, taking him to the hospital would have been more prudent than leaving him in his unheated office alone. His fingers twitched and for a moment he considered calling his friend, reasonably afraid that something might have happened to him. But no… the prosecutor took a deep breath, determined not to get worked up. Phoenix had survived much worse than a night of heavy drinking, and Edgeworth didn't doubt he'd be sleeping off his hangover for the next several hours.

He brushed his bangs out of his eyes and looked up at length, noting that Gumshoe had once again turned around on the ladder and was staring at him with apparent concern. Edgeworth's harsh gaze narrowed into a glare and he folded his arms over his chest.

"What?" he asked, having forgotten that he hadn't answered the detective's question.

"Um… you got very quiet all of a sudden. I haven't seen you look that thoughtful in a long time, Mr. Edgeworth."

Flustered, the prosecutor averted his gaze and sat up a bit straighter in an attempt to compensate for his display of weakness. Damn it. He had to stop doing this. As soon as Wright came and brought his jacket back, this had to end. He had to talk to the other man so that this nonsense stopped immediately.

"I'm fine, and you're right. This… might be a romantic issue. One of your guesses was correct; I believe unrequited love is involved."

"Aww… who's the unlucky girl?"

"That's… unimportant. What IS important is that I don't know how to let this individual 'down gently' as they say."

Edgeworth was surprised when Gumshoe laughed suddenly, turning back to his dusting work. He was certain the detective wasn't getting anything accomplished, as he appeared to be dusting the same row of books over and over again.

"But sir! You've broken the hearts of more women than anyone else I know! What do you mean 'let them down gently'?"

"T-That's… this is different. This isn't just a stranger involved with a court case. I know this individual and care about them more than I would some witness who's infatuated with me." Edgeworth's fingers bit into his upper arms as he continued to stare away from Gumshoe. This felt uncomfortably like an interrogation, and Edgeworth did not like being on the receiving end of it.

"Sounds like you might have some feelings for her then." The prosecutor sputtered in protest, looking back at the detective with blazing eyes and a more pronounced scowl.

"Don't be ridiculous!"

Gumshoe laughed and wiggled the feather duster over his shoulder at the prosecutor, no doubt in an attempt to taunt him.

"Whatever you say, Mr. Edgeworth! Anyway… what happened? Did she confess to you?"

Edgeworth's shoulders stiffened and he spent an idle moment fixing his cravat. It looked more wrinkled than it should – another sign that all of this unnecessary socializing was impeding on even his most basic of habits, such as not leaving his house until he looked immaculate.

"I'm not sure. We went on a 'date' last night, if you want to call it that, and this individual got extraordinarily drunk. Their… apartment had no heat when I dropped them off, so I lent them my jacket. They were nearly unconscious at the time, but... in return for my kindness they gave me a kiss."

He made sure to carefully leave out any mention of gender-Gumshoe didn't need to know that, and fortunately, he didn't seem to catch the omission.

"Wow, nice job, Mr. Edgeworth! Proving that chivalry isn't dead!"

"Um… indeed. I don't know whether to interpret this as a romantic gesture on their part or not, however."

"Pretty hard to misinterpret a kiss, sir. So why do you want to turn her down? Not pretty enough? Not up to your intellectual standards? Not a fan of having a girlfriend who can beat you in a drinking competition?"

Edgeworth really wondered how the detective came to such wild conclusions about his supposed taste in women and romance.

"None of that is relevant as I have no desire for a romantic relationship. I should think that you know that better than anyone, Detective Gumshoe."

"You always say that… but I think you'd be so much happier if you just found yourself someone nice to settle down with. You work yourself to the bone, sir! And a great hero of justice such as yourself needs a love interest-that's just how the world works."

Edgeworth rolled his eyes at the detective's dramatic understanding of the "world".

"I really don't see how it's necessary. I don't have the time or patience for a relationship, and I fail to see how it would improve my life in any meaningful way."

Gumshoe chuckled and looked over his shoulder again, seeming thoughtful. He used one hand to stroke his scraggly beard.

"Well, sir, the way I see it, life is sort of like a bowl of noodles. In its basic state, it can seem pretty plain and bland! But then you add some love-like that little packet of salt and seasoning-and it suddenly transforms into something fulfilling and delicious and worthwhile. And sure, it might be terrible for you, but once you experience it, life isn't worth living without it!"

Edgeworth stared at the detective contemptuously.

"Detective, that is the single most pathetic metaphor I have ever heard. And in any case, all relationships stem from a crass, animalistic urge to mate. I have no desire to take part in such a thing."

Gumshoe looked as hurt as he was insulted.

"I take back what I said earlier about chivalry, sir. You aren't very romantic." He paused for a moment and looked down, the irritation fading from his face to be replaced by a distinctly crestfallen expression. "And I thought it was a good metaphor."

Edgeworth turned his attention back to the papers before him, shaking his head.

"Regardless, now you know what I'm trying to deal with. I have to confront this person later today and inform them that it's not going to work out."

Gumshoe sighed heavily before beginning to actually focus on dusting the bookshelf.

"You can be cold, Mr. Edgeworth. One of these days, though…"

He trailed off cryptically and Edgeworth returned his attention to the small stack of files before him, feeling even more annoyed and conflicted than he had upon initially talking to Gumshoe. The two passed the following so many moments in silence; Edgeworth forced himself to focus with much less success on busywork and the detective focused on his task of tidying up the office.

Not long after their discussion, the relative peace of the room was disturbed by a knock at the door. Edgeworth looked up, his shoulders tensing and voice laden with impatience as he responded.

"Yes? What is it?"

There was a sizable pause and the knock wasn't repeated nor did anyone enter. Annoyed that his "work" had been disturbed, the prosecutor was about to snap that he wasn't to be bothered unless it was important when the door cracked open and the head of the last person he wanted to see right now appeared.

"Uh… hey, Edgeworth. Sorry to bother you." The defense attorney slipped into the room slowly, his shoulders rounded submissively and his face a pained grimace of embarrassment. Wright's body language was always so pathetically easy to read; the prosecutor was at least relieved to see that he looked appropriately ashamed of his behavior the previous night.

"You're up early, Wright," he intoned wearily, looking back down at the current document before him.

"Uh… yeah. I woke up and wanted to come over right away so I could apologize for what happened… I got carried away. And I'm not poor – I mean, I don't know what happened. I think I might have had Maya send in my bills for me… so, um, maybe that explains it." Edgeworth looked up again in time to see the apprehensive man rubbing the back of his neck and shutting his eyes self-consciously, that same troubled smile on his face. He opened his mouth to respond and inquire about his jacket when his chest tightened with fear and sudden, terrible realization.

Gumshoe was here; he hadn't anticipated Wright showing up while the detective was still completing menial chores for him. He'd intended Wright to get here safely many _hours_ later. At the moment of Edgeworth's horrible epiphany, Gumshoe seemed to at last take interest in Phoenix's arrival. He looked over his shoulder at Wright to confirm that it was indeed the spikey-haired lawyer he suspected and Edgeworth tensed with fear, afraid that the detective would notice the very obtrusively colored jacket folded and carried beneath one of Wright's arms. Fortunately, Gumshoe was as unobservant as ever and turned back to his work soon.

"Hah, you! What trouble are you getting yourself into now?"

Phoenix laughed uneasily and looked toward the large man on the ladder.

"Um… nothing. Anyway…"

Before he could continue, Edgeworth swiftly rose from his seat behind his ornate desk and went to intercept the clueless and ticking time-bomb of a defense attorney. The prosecutor could have kicked himself for surrendering to the irrational desire to spout personal problems to his assistant. Of all the idiotic, careless things he could've done, ranting to Gumshoe had been the worst. All it would take was the detective putting two and two together and…

"I brought this back. Um… I really appreciated it. I was _freezing _when I woke up, but I can't imagine what it would've been like if you hadn't let me borrow this." Phoenix continued to look ashamed- bashful, even, and despite his consternation he was able to detect what was unmistakably a blush on the other man's cheeks. No, he _couldn't _focus on inessential details like that right now. He needed to get Wright out of here before he said _anything else_. Edgeworth cast a frantic glance toward Gumshoe, afraid the man had overheard this exchange, but the detective seemed preoccupied with moving his ladder along the wall to reach a new section of books.

Relieved, Edgeworth stopped moving when he was directly before Phoenix. He took his jacket from the other man indelicately and placed a firm hand on his friend's shoulder, leading him toward the door.

"Yes, you're welcome. Now, I have a lot of work to do. You can _call me later _if you wish to discuss something else."

The blue-coated lawyer seemed confused by his urgency, dragging his feet in an obvious attempt to stall and force further conversation out of the prosecutor.

"B-But…"

"Wright, I _really _don't have the time right now." That was hardly true. He'd finished essentially all of his important work and if his conversation with Gumshoe had answered one thing to him, it was that he desperately needed to have a direct discussion with Wright about all of this recent nonsense, preferably sooner than later. But since the defense attorney decided to be prompt and early for the first time in his life in returning this jacket and Gumshoe was still around, it would have to be later. Wright, unfortunately, didn't seem to catch the desperation in his tone as he tried to force him out of the office.

"Okay, okay, fine. I just wanted to say that I really… had a nice time last night. A-And I hope you'll go to a bar with me again sometime. I promise I won't get so drunk next time, hah…" He'd managed to open the door and force Wright halfway outside when Gumshoe spoke up, looking over at the pair with obvious confusion.

"Last night? Sir, I thought you said you were on a date last night?"

Edgeworth's face rapidly drained of color. No. No, no, no. He could feel the last semblance of his control over the situation crumbling away as what little rational power Gumshoe was capable of was put to use. The prosecutor was paralyzed with mortification; he swallowed hard, his hand remaining frozen on Phoenix's shoulder. He'd been so _close_ and now…

Wright wasn't nearly as petrified as he was. The defense attorney's expression was startled, then confused, then reluctantly excited. Edgeworth read them all as clearly as if they'd been subtitled, but at the moment, he couldn't bring himself to care about the implications. He had bigger concerns, namely the fact that now Wright thought that he'd considered their night out a date. His face regained its color as swiftly as it had lost it, turning a shade of bright red. The moment of awkward silence passed and then the defense attorney spoke the words Edgeworth was expecting and dreading.

"You told him we went on a date?"

There was a loud clattering sound, and Edgeworth was shaken from his horrified state to look over his shoulder in time to see Gumshoe practically falling off the ladder. He reached the floor and turned around, staring at the defense attorney with open hostility and confusion.

"Hey, what's the idea here, pal? Mr. Edgeworth was telling me about the girl he went drinking with last night-he's been obsessing over it all morning! He didn't mention you being there."

Edgeworth opened his mouth to silence the two men, his mind working frantically to find a way to explain away this situation.

"Detective, please calm down. This is none of your business."

"But sir-!" He looked beseechingly toward the prosecutor, and only then did he notice the magenta jacket clasped tightly in his fist. Edgeworth cringed when he saw the full realization of the situation dawning on the detective's face.

"WHAT? You went on a date with HIM? HE'S the one you gave your coat to and were all chivalrous with? But sir! You're not-I mean… are you? M-Mr. Edgeworth!"

Gumshoe looked torn between disbelief and horror, and Edgeworth couldn't risk a glance toward Phoenix. Struggling to breathe normally, the prosecutor's red face contorted into an expression of outrage. He clenched his hands into fists, appearing moments away from some sort of major breakdown.

"OUT."

"W-Wait, Edgeworth! Please!"

Even Phoenix's impassioned appeal wasn't enough to calm the seething prosecutor.

"But sir…!"

"GET OUT. NOW."

Edgeworth's face was so flushed and his glare so intense that neither of the men ignored his command for long. Surely fearing a salary cut, the detective exited the room in a hurry, his expression of stunned disbelief never once disappearing. Phoenix tried to linger in the doorway after Gumshoe left, a hand on the doorknob to the prosecutor's office.

"Edgeworth, please! Let me talk to you!"

"NOT NOW, WRIGHT."

He slammed the door shut and locked it, feeling dizzy as his heart hammered in his chest. Edgeworth leaned back against the closed door, shutting his eyes and biting his tongue. After a few moments, he heard the sound of footsteps moving down the hallway as Wright finally gave up.

Edgeworth was frozen in place for a considerable amount of time, his mind overwhelmed. There was nothing logical or sane about this situation, and as he considered the consequences of what had been said and all of the explaining he'd have to do, the prosecutor felt sick with self-loathing and embarrassment.


	14. Chapter 14

Miles Edgeworth slumped even further against the door to his office, running his hands up through his hair and scrunching his eyes shut. This was unbelievably bad. There was no ambiguity or questioning left to the matter; Wright would be certain that his affection was reciprocated, and Gumshoe's presence at that information's most uncouth revealing would ensure that the prosecutor would have absolutely no way to escape the burden of his unintentional admittance.

And really, just what WAS that admittance?

Even now, Edgeworth couldn't figure out what to think. He DIDN'T share Wright's feelings-he COULDN'T. And Wright's feelings were now so absurdly transparent. He'd witnessed the childish, lovelorn expression on Wright's face transforming into one of excitement all too clearly to doubt the defense attorney's motives at this point. Edgeworth's fingers dug into his scalp as he considered, eventually exhaling sharply and opening his eyes as he trudged back across the room to sit at his desk.

There was only one option.

He would have to call Wright immediately, tell him that everything he assumed was some wrong and ludicrous misunderstanding, and that their lives _had _to go back to the way they used to be. No more dinners out, no more fraternizing unnecessarily- a purely professional relationship in every sense of the phrase. If he had to choose between what their friendship was evolving into or no relationship with Wright at all, even being the most distant of acquaintances, he'd choose the latter.

Describing what had happened to Wright would, of course, require a painfully complicated and not necessarily logical explanation on his part, such as why he'd chosen to allow Gumshoe to operate under the assumption that it was a date. Upon reflection, he himself didn't know. If anything, it was a meaningless statement for the sake of convenience, but _Wright _probably wasn't going to believe that. Edgeworth wasn't entirely sure he was ready to stomach a conversation about this, but the longer he let this go, the harder it would be to set right in the end.

After spending several more minutes trying to put his thoughts into order (and that task was exceedingly difficult given how thoroughly this fiasco had upended him), the prosecutor sunk down in his chair and sighed, slowly moving his hands from his head and folding them over the desk. What was done was done. He'd never been the type to easily let matters go; Edgeworth knew all too well his tendency toward obsessing over things that couldn't be changed, but despite his hesitance, he resolved to deal with this as maturely and immediately as possible. His heart rate returned to a baseline state after a while, although the mortification that the encounter instilled within him refused to abate.

Right; he'd call right now. What he was supposed to _say_, however, remained an utter mystery to him. Unlike the defense attorney, he was NOT gifted when it came to floundering his way through unprepared and unpracticed discussion.

Several moments had passed since the incident had occurred. Edgeworth wasn't sure how long it had been; probably not long enough for Wright to return to his office, but long enough that a call to his cell phone would make sense. He reached a hand toward the phone on his desk, fully intending to get this over with as painlessly as possible, when the phone began to ring. Quite unintentionally, the ruffled prosecutor jumped at the sound, his hand retracting in an instant as if scalded. He felt foolish a second later and, bracing himself, he leaned forward to pick up the phone and held it to his ear.

"Yes?" he answered, both unprofessionally and uncertainly. He was prepared to wait with bated breath for a response, but the man on the other end of the line allowed him no time to consider.

"Mr. Edgeworth! Sir!"

It took all of his self-control to not groan loudly into the receiver. Really, he should've been expecting a call from the good detective. Edgeworth had hoped that his assistant would have had the sense to wait for more than half an hour to call, but obviously he should've known better; Gumshoe had no respect for propriety.

When the prosecutor didn't respond, the eager man continued to bark questions into his ear. "Sir? Are you there? Please pick up!" With a labored sigh, the prosecutor sat up straighter in his seat and clamped the phone to his ear.

"I'm here. What do you need?"

There was an awkward pause at the other end of the line. Perhaps Gumshoe expected him to still be in an agitated state after what had just occurred. If that were the case, the prosecutor couldn't help but wonder why he had the nerve to call. He couldn't _seriously _expect his advice to be the words that soothed his mangled self-image.

"M-Mr. Edgeworth! I'm sorry about earlier! I was just… shocked, sir!"

Edgeworth pulled the receiver away from his ear, wincing. Even after all this time, it seemed Gumshoe had never quite come to understand that screaming over the phone wasn't necessary. That, or he didn't really care that he was coaxing the prosecutor's ear to bleed.

"Shocked about WHAT?" Edgeworth practically spat into the phone, in no mood for this miscommunication to continue on any longer than it already had. There was a confused silence on the other end. Apparently Gumshoe expected the answer to be obvious.

"W-Well… sir…" Gumshoe didn't want to say it. Edgeworth wasn't about to let this conversation go on any longer than it needed to.

"Just spit it out already, detective!"

"I'm sorry about discovering your love affair!"

Even though he'd been expecting something along those lines, Edgeworth still wasn't quite prepared for those words. His fingers tightened around the phone and he grabbed at the cord with his other hand, sputtering.

"We do NOT have a love affair!"

"But sir! You said a date-and that jacket-and drinking! I should've seen it way before this, sir-"

"DETECTIVE GUMSHOE!" Perhaps it was the raw fury in his tone, as Gumshoe seemed to realize his babbling wasn't helping and quieted down. "What happened in my office this morning was a MISUNDERSTANDING."

"A misunderstanding? But… he had your coat… and it really sounded like you spent the night at a bar with _him_… and not some girl…" Gumshoe was struggling for words. Edgeworth could detect uncertainty in his voice and hoped that maybe this would be his chance to set their mix-up straight.

"Yes, I went to a bar with Wright and not some woman. In my… flustered state, I mistakenly referred to this outing as a date. It was NOT. It was merely an evening out at a bar with no… inappropriate connotations."

Hopefully that settled the issue. Edgeworth tried to relax, unwinding his fingers from the phone cord and waiting for Gumshoe to apologize again for making assumptions. He didn't expect to hear a victorious laugh on the other end of the line.

"Mr. Edgeworth! I always pegged you as the honest type… but now you're contradicting your own words!"

"Excuse me?"

"You said it yourself, pal! The whole reason you started talking about it was because you said you thought this girl-er, guy-wanted to date you!"

The detective was right, of course. Edgeworth had been too flustered to even catch such a careless error; he felt foolish, like a witness caught lying on something obvious and stupid.

"Um… that is… correct, but make no mistake, I did NOT treat the situation as I would a date. It was WRIGHT who… who has been acting strange." But really, how true WAS that? For a terrifying moment, the prosecutor wondered if he'd been reading into something that wasn't there at all. He thought Wright had been overtly romantic and had acted _far_ too forward and excited about all of these recent outings… but maybe he'd been wrong. Maybe he'd just been projecting all this time. A second later he realized that "projecting" was most definitely NOT the right word choice because that would require that he have feelings for Wright, and he most definitely _did not have any._

"I don't know, sir… he seemed the same as always if you ask me. And he sounded like he had a good time with you!"

"I don't… see how that's relevant, detective."

"Huh. Yeah, I guess it's not really that relevant, but I'm just saying… maybe you should, uh, you know… give it a shot!"

"EXCUSE ME?"

"You know. Try, um… dating him?"

"DETECTIVE GUMSHOE. In case you don't recall, this whole fiasco started because I was looking for a way to END any potential relationship before it could start."

"I know, sir! But… this is kind of different. I mean, I never thought that he was, well… you know… or that you were either, but now that the shock has passed and I've been thinking about it, you two would make a good team! Two vicious rivals become star-crossed lovers, forced to do battle in the court room, both fighting for justice…"

Edgeworth considered hanging up and ending the conversation right there.

"You are one word away from being docked a month's worth of pay, detective."

"Awww, come on, Mr. Edgeworth. I was only having some fun!"

"I'm glad that you find my problem so amusing."

"I was just trying to cheer you up…"

Edgeworth wondered how this was supposed to cheer him up at _all_, although there was no explaining the way Gumshoe thought.

"In case it wasn't clear before, allow me to reiterate: I am NOT interested in Wright."

"Yeah… I know, I know. Although… it would've made so much sense if you were, now that I think about it."

"And just what is THAT supposed to mean?"

"N-Nothing, sir! Just that, ah… how should I say it… you're kind of obsessed with him."

"Excuse me!?"

"I mean, you're always talking about him and reading about his trials and you always jump to help him out… remember that time you took a private jet just because you heard he was in the hospital?"

"I was told that he was _dying_."

"W-Well, my point is, you obviously care about him a lot more than you do most people, sir!"

"Yes, that's what I told you at the start of this. I DON'T want to hurt him. I just want to end this before it becomes a problem. Have you been paying attention to anything at all that's been discussed?"

Edgeworth was really getting annoyed now. The last thing he needed was Gumshoe throwing evidence of his supposedly reciprocated feelings in his face. If this is what the _detective_ thought, he could only imagine what kind of impression Wright might have. He leaned forward in his seat, staring down at the unfiled folders before him and once again running his fingers through his bangs.

"O-Of course, sir! But I meant what I said earlier… If he really is interested, I think you should try it! I'm not the biggest fan of Mr. Wright myself, but maybe he's just what you need."

"I don't have time for this, detective."

"Come on! Why not?"

"I thought I already explained to you my aversion to romance and dating."

"But he isn't a girl!"

"What does THAT have to do with anything?"

"Because aren't you…?"

"NO, I am NOT."

"Oh… so you won't do it because he's a man?"

"Detective Gumshoe, why are you SO INVESTED IN THIS?"

"Because I want you to be happy, sir! And I think that maybe this is the perfect opportunity for that!"

"I told you, I'm not interested in dating _anyone_. Whether they're male or female is irrelevant."

"So you ARE… you know, _that_ way?"

"How on EARTH did you take what I said and come to that conclusion?"

"You said male or female was irrelevant!"

Edgeworth sighed loudly into the phone, hoping that the detective would pick up on his exasperation and desire to end this discussion. He still needed to talk to Wright and it seemed that Gumshoe was not getting the message.

"Yes, because I'm equally uninterested in either. Just WHAT would be the purpose of my 'getting together with Wright' be? Having unnecessary ties so that working abroad becomes difficult or impossible? Having to waste my valuable time to go out on expensive dates? Losing my independence, my privacy, and any semblance of dignity? I'm not equipped-mentally, physically, or emotionally-for the responsibility of a relationship. It wouldn't be fair to me, and it ESPECIALLY wouldn't be fair to the other person."

"Don't you think Mr. Wright already knows what he's getting himself into? I don't think he'd expect anything out of you that you couldn't give, sir…"

Edgeworth didn't know how to respond, mainly because Gumshoe might have made a valid argument. At this point he didn't know what was preferable – having been incorrect in his assumption that Wright was interested in him or learning that Wright genuinely was. If Gumshoe was correct and Wright _was_ seeking a relationship, then… maybe he _had_ considered all of those things. If that were true, the prosecutor marveled at the man's tastes in a romantic partner. Wright couldn't _honestly_ want some one-sided relationship.

"That's… I doubt that, detective. People always want to bend their partners to their will. Wright would be no different."

"What makes you think that?"

"That's… that's just the way it is! Now if you'd excuse me, I have _other_ matters I have to attend to…" This conversation _needed_ to end.

"Okay, uh, sure… but I think you're trying to hide your feelings, Mr. Edgeworth. You're just afraid of opening up to someone!"

"There's a difference between being afraid of something and having no desire for it."

"But would it hurt you to even _try_?"

"More than you can imagine."

"Wrong! It would be perfectly fine!

"I'm hanging up now, detective." Edgeworth's voice was weary with impatience.

"Good luck, sir! I know you're saying no, but I know the real you, and the real you is a hidden romantic!" As usual, Edgeworth had no idea how Gumshoe came to these conclusions. He hung up without another word.

Well, that discussion made his impending talk with Wright even more disconcerting. Tiptoeing around the subject didn't seem like it was going to be possible at this point. He needed to find out what Wright's real feelings were and then… go from there.

The prosecutor realized quite painfully that dealing with Wright's feelings was a lot easier than dealing with his own. He shut his eyes and rubbed them, feeling exhausted from both lack of sleep and the mental strain this had caused. Being together with Wright… the prosecutor couldn't help but scoff aloud at the mere idea. Why bother? He didn't need the burden of caring about another person. His job was too demanding, and on top of that, he just wasn't _made_ for relationships. The whole scenario was too embarrassing to think about. The looks he'd get, the media talking… no, it wasn't even worth considering. In fact, Edgeworth felt like a fool for even thinking about it for the brief moment he did.

Frustrated, he put his hand back on the phone. He had to call Wright, and the longer he thought about it, the more difficult it would be to sort out. He dialed the number and held the phone to his ear.


	15. Chapter 15

Update: February 26, 2014 - Hey guys, despite not updating this in over a year I DO intend to finish it. I apologize for the delay! Keep on the lookout for new chapters and thank you for all the reviews!

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><p>Phoenix didn't know how to feel. Elation seemed a bit extreme; after all, Edgeworth had thrown him violently from his office, and he'd seemed nothing short of irate while doing so. And yet… despite his outward hostility, the prosecutor had called their night at the bar a <em>date. <em>As much as he was trying to prevent himself from getting too hopeful about something that might mean nothing, Phoenix couldn't calm the building storm of excitement that threatened to sweep him away. A _date_. That Edgeworth hadn't wanted him to learn that he'd referred to it as such made it all the more incriminating.

He'd waited outside the prosecutor's office for several moments, hoping that maybe Edgeworth would change his mind and he'd have the opportunity to talk with him one-on-one. As the seconds turned into minutes, however, the defense attorney abandoned his post, deciding to give the clearly confused man some space. Maybe this was it… the event that catalyzed something greater. Even if Edgeworth hadn't wanted to date him before, maybe he was at least _thinking _about it now.

His head reeling, Phoenix could barely remember taking the elevator down from the prosecutor's office or hailing a cab. Everything felt funny and not quite real, and his fingers itched to badger Edgeworth with a phone call right away. As tempting as it was, the spikey-haired lawyer realized that he needed to be patient. Maybe Edgeworth would even come to_ him_ this time. The thought made him beam stupidly and he shut his eyes, leaning back against the seat of the cab and zoning out until the driver informed him they'd arrived back at his office. Phoenix paid him (and considering Edgeworth had covered the bill for the previous night, gave a more generous tip than he could normally afford) and then climbed the steps to his office.

He had just enough time to slump down on his couch when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. Hoping that it was Edgeworth, Phoenix extracted it and glanced down at the screen, experiencing mild disappointment when he realized that it was Maya calling. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to the spirit medium-he did, and he had a lot to tell her-but he felt unresolved and desperate to talk to Edgeworth again before he filled Maya in on the details. Oh well. He opened his phone and held it to his ear, quite unprepared to deal with the onslaught of questions that Maya immediately unleashed upon him.

"NICK, YOU BETTER TELL ME EVERYTHING! WHAT DID HE SAY AT THE BAR? WHAT DID HE SAY WHEN YOU GAVE HIM THAT JACKET BACK? DID HE FINALLY ADMIT HE HAS FEELINGS FOR YOU?"

Phoenix cringed at the loudness of her voice and held the cell phone about a foot from his ear. Excited or not, the headache and dizziness from earlier had not yet fully abated and Maya's screaming brought it back with a vengeance.

"Maya… please, don't yell. I got really drunk, remember? Hangover?"

"Ahh, right, sorry! Just… take it from the beginning, okay? I really want to know!"

"Well, like I said, I don't actually remember that much about the night itself. I'm sure I made myself look like an idiot because I just kept on drinking, but I don't remember Edgeworth being mean about it. Anyway, I told you about what happened that night… and I just got back from taking his jacket back to him…"

"Stop building the suspense and tell me what happened! You're killing me, Nick!"

"I… I think you might have been right…"

"Whaaaat? Really? He confessed to you?" Phoenix could perfectly picture her eyes bulging with excitement and her mouth hanging open with shock and anticipation.

"N-No, no, it wasn't like THAT exactly… but, um, geeze, I don't know how to explain this. Apparently he was talking to Gumshoe about it before I got there and he called our trip to the bar a 'date'. He, um, threw me out of his office after that but he was so embarrassed I don't know any other way to interpret what he meant…"

There was some strange squealing, cheering noise at the other end of the line and Phoenix laughed apprehensively. He wasn't sure at this point if he or _Maya_ would be more disappointed if this all turned out to be a misunderstanding.

"I knew it! What did I tell you? Even though he tries to act all cool and intimidating, I could tell he had a thing for you!"

"Hah, I'm trying not to get too ahead of myself. He was _furious_ when I found out." That anger was what simultaneously convinced him that Edgeworth _did_ have feelings for him while still giving him doubt. The way he got so angry made it easier to believe that Edgeworth hated him rather than liked him, but at the same time, he couldn't understand why the prosecutor would get so emotional over something that was a mistake. Edgeworth wouldn't have called it a date for no good reason. He was always so cognizant of the language he used and the image he projected that this couldn't be some meaningless slip-up.

"Well of COURSE he was furious! He's got such an appearance to uphold! You should know that better than anyone, Nick!" Maya sounded unusually certain, prompting Phoenix to consider it more carefully.

"Do you think? Actually, maybe that's it… maybe he's too shy about having feelings for me that he doesn't know how to deal with it. After all we've been through you'd think he'd know better than to be embarrassed in front of me, but you're right… he's so prideful." He sighed, sinking further down on the leather couch and kicking his legs up as he reflected. "I feel like I shouldn't do or say anything else unless he calls me. I don't want to pressure him or anything."

"No way, Nick! That's the LAST thing you should do!"

"But I don't want to scare him away! I never thought any of this would be possible in the first place and this kind of feels like… like a tipping point. I think I should just wait."

"Wait? Do you really think there's ANY CHANCE at all that he's going to come around on his own? This is what we've been working towards, Nick! You need to make your move!"

Phoenix sighed in exasperation. Maya was really too idealistic about stuff like this.

"Seriously, Maya, what kind of love stories _have_ you been reading lately? I highly doubt Edgeworth's been secretly hoping I'd sweep him off his feet for all these years. I think all of this is new to him and if I just went and 'made my move' too suddenly he'd never talk to me again."

"You have to trust me on this one! It has nothing to do with love stories! I know Mr. Edgeworth too, you know. I KNOW that if you want this to happen, you're going to have to MAKE IT happen! Just be yourself, tell him you know that you two can be happy together, and go for it!"

Phoenix was glad that they weren't in the same room. At least the blush on his face wasn't visible to her. The way Maya could be so open about sensitive issues like this blew his mind; maybe it was cultural differences, and Maya DID frequently yell at him for looking at things based on narrow-minded cultural assumptions, but openly admitting romantic interest in Edgeworth continued to make him uncomfortable.

"You… have a point, but I just don't know… Edgeworth is so stuck in his ways. He might sue me if I were too bold."

"He was the one to call it a date, remember? You have nothing to lose, Nick!"

Phoenix wasn't so sure.

"Uh, what about our friendship? Remember? That was priority number one?"

"I think you two have already gone way past that point. Just think about it, Nick. If some part of him wasn't interested, do you think a guy like Edgeworth would have continued to agree to see you?"

"Uh… t-that's what friends do, Maya…"

"NORMAL friends, but this is EDGEWORTH."

Phoenix lifted a hand to rub his forehead, thinking about Maya's words. He really didn't want to get too ahead of himself. Maybe she had a point; he would have assumed that all of this was just Edgeworth wanting to be closer friends since he'd realized he didn't have to be a perfect, demon prosecutor anymore, but after what had happened at the office today, he had to acknowledge that maybe there _was_ a good reason to consider his actions more deeply.

"Yeah… you could be right. A-Actually, I should probably go because I'm hoping he'll call me back. He did say we could talk later on. Well, he said 'not now', but I think that implies we'll be talking again in the future."

"See? If he wasn't interested, he wouldn't have said something like that! You can do it!"

"I'll try my best, but I have no idea what I'm doing. I'll, uh, talk to you later…"

"Remember, be confident! Don't give up!"

Phoenix fully realized that Maya didn't grasp the delicacy of the situation but he appreciated her support and friendship nonetheless.

"Thanks. I'll call you later."

"And don't forget to make your move!"

Phoenix smirked and snapped his phone shut after hearing Maya's last words. Make a move? What did that even mean? Wasn't everything that they'd already done a "move" in some way? Edgeworth seemed to understand that there was some romantic tension between them now, but his outburst at the office made it impossible to figure out what exactly his thoughts were.

He propped the back of his neck up on the arm of the couch and threw an arm over his eyes, his head still distantly aching. Maybe it was time for more painkillers. The fingers of his other hand tightened around the phone and he flipped it open again, moving his arm and suspending the screen before his face. Selecting his contacts list, he swiftly scrolled down to "Miles Edgeworth". The defense attorney couldn't contain a more genuine smile. He never called Edgeworth by his first name. It felt… strange. He wondered if the other man ever thought of him as "Phoenix".

Maya clearly believed that now was the time to take some action, but he didn't know what to do. Playing it safe seemed the wiser choice, but somehow this felt like a really, really important decision. He shut his eyes again and lowered the phone, deciding to rest his mind (and hope his headache went away) until Edgeworth decided to call him. IF Edgeworth decided to call him, that was.

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><p>Despite reaffirming his stance on the matter and having thought himself fully prepared to confront Wright on the issue, as the phone began to ring the prosecutor's shoulders tensed with anxiety. Fear was not the appropriate response and Edgeworth tried in vain to convince himself that it was the combination of anger and embarrassment that caused his heart to palpitate in such a way. The phone rang a second time, then a third, and by the fourth Edgeworth was beginning to doubt his initial conviction to have this discussion so immediately. Maybe he <em>should<em> have waited. Maybe thinking this through more carefully would have been the more prudent decision. Gumshoe's "advice" certainly hadn't changed his mind on anything, but considering it from Wright's point of view further might have served to clarify the issue for him.

He was expecting Wright to pick up by the fifth ring at _least_, but when he instead got the other man's voice mail, Edgeworth let out a low groan of frustration. Either Wright's phone was dead or the defense attorney was already using it to talk to someone else. Knowing what he did about his so-called friends, he assumed the latter-either Gumshoe had been so inspired to play matchmaker that he had called the defense attorney as soon as their own call had ended, or (in his opinion the more likely situation) Wright was telling Maya Fey all about what had just transpired. He ground his teeth in irritation, feeling a headache beginning to build behind his eyes.

He placed the phone down against the receiver with some force and leaned back against his seat with crossed arms, no longer even making a pretense at completing the paperwork still before him on the desk. Glaring at the office door where he'd so recently chased Gumshoe and Wright away, Edgeworth felt another surge of embarrassment. The utter foolishness of it all – he could only imagine what Franziska would say if she could see him now, or for that matter what his mentor's response would be. Fraternizing with the enemy, allowing such idiocy to go unchecked for so long... it was shameful in every sense of the word.

He supposed he should be reflecting more carefully on how to address this subject when Wright finally _did_ pick up the phone but realized that his mind was so hopelessly at a loss that preparing some speech was as ridiculous as it was futile. Wright was impossible to predict and he expected that the conversation wouldn't go the way he anticipated at all if he tried to plan ahead.

Another half an hour passed and the prosecutor wasn't any closer to a resolution to his dilemma. Even after reflecting on the situation that had occurred at the office and his conversation with Gumshoe multiple times, Edgeworth wasn't any closer to sorting out his feelings. When he came to the conclusion that no amount of brooding or consideration would provide him with the answers he sought more than a direct discussion, Edgeworth reached for his phone again and dialed the defense attorney's number.

This time, it rang four times. Edgeworth was about to believe that Wright had merely neglected to charge his cell phone when the lawyer in question answered, his voice confused and distant.

"Hello?"

Phoenix sounded as if he'd been sleeping… but that couldn't be right. There was no way the other man could possibly think about napping at a time like _this._

"Wright? Are you awake?"

Although he couldn't see it, from the sudden intake of breath at the other end of the line, Phoenix seemed to very abruptly remember where he was or what was happening. When he spoke again, his voice was considerably clearer.

"Sorry, I guess I was taking a nap."

There wasn't really anything that involved guessing when it came to taking a nap, but Edgeworth didn't comment. The defense attorney was quick to fill in the silence.

"Um… Edgeworth, I'm really sorry about earlier. I…"

Edgeworth realized abruptly that he didn't want to hear what it was the defense attorney had to say and intervened before he could continue.

"Wright, just stop. I would like to speak with you in person. Sooner rather than later would be preferable."

There was a pause on the other end, causing Edgeworth's nose to wrinkle in discomfort. Hopefully Wright wasn't over-thinking this.

"Sure. I can come over anytime."

"Now, then," he snapped as soon as he heard the other man's words. The response was also nearly instantaneous.

"Okay. I'll be there soon."

Edgeworth wanted to respond, but before he had the opportunity the line went dead. Wright was apparently in that much of a hurry to get over there, and as far as he was concerned, that didn't bode well.

His mouth felt strangely dry as he sat up in his seat for the first time in several minutes and began clearing away the clutter that had accumulated. Soon, this would all be resolved. Even though he hadn't crushed Wright's hopes yet, he felt guilty in advance and wished there was some easier way to get through this dreadful business.


End file.
